


Coming Clean

by penguinpatrolerarmy



Series: The "Mal De Coucou" Series [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Autistic Jeremy Heere, Burns, Childhood Trauma, Complicated Relationships, Existential Crisis, Gen, Gender Identity, Green Day - Freeform, Green Day References, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury Recovery, Inspired by Music, Mental Health Issues, POV First Person, Permanent Injury, Platonic Relationships, Post-Canon, Rich Goranski-centric, Sexual Identity, Stand Alone Sequel, Toxic Masculinity, Trans Jeremy Heere, Trans Rich Goranski, Trauma, Trauma Recovery, Unlearning Toxic Behaviors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25835017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinpatrolerarmy/pseuds/penguinpatrolerarmy
Summary: Seventeen and strung out on confusionTrapped inside a roll of disillusionI found out what it takes to be a manWell mom and dad will never understandAfter finally ridding himself of his SQUIP and being hospitalized for over a month, Rich Goranski finds himself more lost than ever... With several potentially ruined relationships under his belt, he sets off on a quest of personal growth; all whilst being haunted by an ever-present reflection of his former self.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere's Father/Mr. Reyes, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Rich Goranski & Everyone, Rich Goranski & Rich Goranski's Brother, Rich Goranski & Rich Goranski's Squip
Series: The "Mal De Coucou" Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874575
Comments: 35
Kudos: 32





	1. ACT 1 - BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, just a bit of forward on this story:
> 
> This is a direct sequel to Mal De Coucou, one of my previous works. That said, you can read this without much of the prior knowledge given in that story (Though, I reccomend reading it anyway because I poured 2 years of my life into it). Some references to previous events in that story do get explained in this one, mostly because of Rich talking about it.
> 
> It also serves as a continuation of Be More Chill, in the same way, but I presume we're all aware of the story.


	2. Pulling Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm all busted up, broken bones and nasty cuts  
> Accidents will happen, but this time I can't get up  
> She comes to check on me, making sure I'm on my knees  
> After all, she's the one who put me in this state
> 
> \---
> 
> Rich is ready to leave the hospital now, but isn't sure if he actually wants to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Hospital setting.
> 
> If you enjoy this chapter, leave a comment! I always love to hear people's thoughts and feedback.

**Beep...**

**Beep...**

**Beep...**

That was the sound that greeted me every single morning. The sound of the heart machine keeping track of my vitals. The sound that with every passing hour, I started to loath. Every day I hear it, it's just another reminder that I'm busted up and stuck in this crummy hospital all day long...

Well, at least I wasn't in the body cast anymore. I could stretch a little. Move more than before. The hand that wasn't wrapped up could touch my teddy bear, Todd, and just barely feel the fluff on his head. That was something I never thought I'd take for granted, but now that I had the ability to move again I realized just how much I had. It wasn't perfect... I was still bandaged up all over, especially where the burns were super bad, but it was something. 

The one thing I still couldn't stand though was the loneliness... I was glad to have an empty head. One free of that fucking SQUIP, but... When the only other noise you heard all day was the sound of a machine beeping and your nurse coming in to make sure you eat and haven't flatlined, you started craving more. The only other person who ever came in was Jeremy Heere... But, I think it was just cause he knew no one else was going to. They were pity visits. Once I got out, I'd be a social outcast and they'd all go back to ignoring me like everyone else did Freshman Year... 

Nah, I wish. I'm gonna be the most hated person in school.

My nurse walks in... She had a name, Sue I think... I never really clarified that though.

"Hello, Richard." She greets with a smile. 

I can't really bring myself to smile back right now, even though the hospital refers to me by name I can't really let it make me happy. But I respond, if for no other reason than politeness. "Hey..."

She gets to work checking on my vitals and taking out my meal scraps from the night before... It was gross hospital food, baked beans and watery powdered potatoes, but it was something I guess. Then she looks over at my bandages.

"We're gonna give you a sponge bath and change these out later today, you think you're still up for that?"

I let out a sigh. "Yeah... Sure." I hated the idea of being bathed like some helpless little cat... But, if it meant a few moments free of any bandages, I was willing to suck it up. Sue continues to look me over for the time being... I wonder briefly what she was like off the clock. What she did at home. Was she this caring towards others, or was this all a front because it was her job? I didn't know, and truthfully I wasn't sure if I was in a place to ask about it.

...Nurses were extra careful around me, I noticed. I assume it has something to do with the fact that I'd wake up screaming in pain during most of my first week. Or, that's what I'm told. I don't remember those days much, I think the pain medicine took away those memories. It could also have to do with the 'seizure' I had when my SQUIP got deactivated during the play not long ago. 

Sue flashes another smile. "Dr. Canonico will have his final check-in with you after all that, then. We have toast for breakfast this morning. Are you hungry?"

I wasn't really, but... I knew if I said that they'd just send more doctors in. "Yeah... Do you guys have grape jelly?"

She smiles. "I'll see what I can do."

And, once more, I'm alone, just with the beeping... beeping... beeping. The same beeping I've been stuck with for over a month, and the same beeping I'd be hearing in my sleep once I got out of here. That was my one bit of salvation: The fact that soon I'd be out. And once I was, school would be on break and I would have more time to work out how the hell I'm going to survive for the rest of the year... Next year? Whatever...

* * *

"Are you excited to be getting out soon?"

Those are the words Dr. Canonico asks me a few hours later. He'd come in while I'd been doing homework, but by that point, I needed a break... Then again I wasn't sure if talking about my feelings really qualified as a _break_. It was probably just as much work, even if the movement didn't reflect that. 

I think about the question for a moment, hugging Todd closer to my body. "I'll be happy to be in my own bed for once." I decide. Dr. Canonico gives me a look and jots something on his clipboard.

"Just your bed?"

I shrug. "I've been tired... _This_ isn't exactly the most comfortable thing in the world."

He nods. "I can't argue with that. I've napped on these before, I'm surprised any of our patients can stay through long-term stays in these things."

I chuckle a little and pick at one of my hand bandages. Then flinch. He glances at me in concern. "How do you feel about school?"

I pause for a moment... I'm hesitant to talk about this with just _anyone_. No one really listened to me before... but then again I suppose I can't really lie to a psychologist... I mean, I could, but I wasn't going to. "I'm terrified," I admit.

"Care to elaborate?"

I look at him like he's the insane one. "You're joking, right? I burnt down a _fucking house_. They've been talking about me since Halloween! When I step into those halls, I'm dead on arrival. No one will wanna even look at me."

He hums. "...What about that boy who comes in here? And his friends?"

"You mean Jeremy? Well-" I pause for a moment. I wasn't sure why Jeremy kept coming by, but the selfish part of me was happy about it. It wasn't every day, just Tuesdays and Thursdays (Maybe a Sunday or two), but it kept me from getting brain rot from watching the same ten _I Love Lucy_ episodes on repeat and staring at my homework without making any substantial progress.

"-...He talks to me now, I guess, but... He's kinda friends with the guy who's house I burnt down. And I think if it comes down to one of us, He's gonna pick the person who isn't going to make him look crazy by association. I think he just feels bad for me because no one else has visited."

Dr. Canonico writes something down again. "He doesn't seem to mind hanging out in front of you when he brings those other kids over." He points out. 

"He's known Michael since the second grade, nothing they do surprises each other... and Christine's his girlfriend, so like she kind of has to be supportive. And they hardly talk to me when they do come over so they probably don't even wanna be there except to help Jeremy if I go nuts on him." ...Maybe this wasn't entirely true, Christine had gotten me my oh so precious Teddy Bear and Michael had talked to me even when Jeremy wasn't around, but my brain kept saying it may as well be. It was just _pity_ , they pitied me. Once I was out, they'd stop.

"Rich, can you take a deep breath for me?"

I do, mostly just to satisfy him... But, it happens to carry the side effect of calming me down a little. For a brief moment, I wonder if Dr. Canonico was this collected off the clock, or if he got as easily frazzled as I did. But, it leaves at the sound of his voice.

"Why do you think everyone assumes that of you?" He asks.

I curl my legs towards my chest a little, and let out a sigh. "Because...That's the image I gave of myself. I told you before, I was a bully for most of last year. They remember that, and considering how shitty I was they aren't obligated to forgive me."

"That is true, Rich..." He seems upset he can't exactly refute this, "But that doesn't mean your feelings matter any less."

"I guess not but it's not like I can just hide... I got all these bandages and scars all over me." I remind. "I'm just a huge target now." 

Dr. Canonico keeps writing things down. "Okay... Well, you said Jeremy was supposed to come by later right? Why don't you at least ask him if He'll keep an eye on you when you go back? I'm sure that couldn't hurt, right?" 

I mull over it for a moment. "...Okay."

He smiles. "Now, just one last thing... You said you went to Middleborough, correct?"

I nod.

"Well... If you think it would be beneficial, I was thinking I'd call your school's guidance counselor to see if they could arrange meetings with you during the week? Like what we've been having? That way if anyone is giving you trouble, you can talk to someone who'll be able to help?"

I paused for a bit, and think over it. "Um... Do I have to keep going if it's not helping?"

"Of course not! You can just go every Friday for the first month and then _you_ can figure out what's best from there?"

I think over it again... Yeah, A month... I could handle a month. "Okay," I say with a nod. 

Dr. Canonico caps his pen and sets it into his coat pocket. "Alright, you're all set for Monday, Rich." 

I nod. "Thanks, Doc." I expect him to leave after. But, instead, he kneels down to my eye level. I feel a bit squeamish, but keep eye contact with him anyway. It'll be over soon, I tell myself.

"Just so you know, we do offer ward stays here... I wouldn't let you out yet if I didn't feel confident that you were ready, but if you feel like you wanna stay a little longer then I'd just like to remind you that you can make that choice."

... I could make that choice, but I don't think my dad would appreciate me staying here any longer. It drained into his beer money. Plus, I really just wanted to get out of here as soon as I could. "I think I'm ready."

He gives me a smile. "Alright. We'll call your father to remind him you're getting discharged on Monday then." 

"Thanks, again," I say.

"Just doing my job, Rich." Dr. Canonico leaves, and soon I'm alone again. I grab my homework and try to get back to where I had left off... But, my brain still felt like mush. No matter how hard I tried to will it to listen, It wouldn't stay focused, So, I flip on a random Channel on my TV. Some random black-and-white show presented itself, and I let my senses dull for a bit... It's the closest I can get to relaxing in this place.

* * *

Come three o'clock, I had a visitor. Jeremy Heere, per usual; balancing his backpack, a box of Pizza, and a couple of water bottles. I hadn't really noticed him when he first walked in, but that was okay because he greeted me when he walked in anyways.

"Heya, Richie." He smiles, handing me a bottle. It's already been opened, but not sipped from... He must've done it himself. I gargle a little of the water in my mouth, then set it aside.

"Is that Pizza?" I asked, knowing it's a stupid question because of course it's a fucking pizza. Jeremy just nods.

"I figured you'd be sick of Hospital Food by now." He says, setting the box on my bed, "Plus you'll be out soon, right? Thought that Pizza would be a nice way to celebrate. I even got Pineapple, cause you mentioned missing that." 

I grab a slice and take a bite, savoring every last chew. It'd been too long since I had any real food. If I could, I'd cry. But men don't cry, so I just sit there with my eyes screwed shut.

"Thanks," I mumble once I finish that one measly bite. Jeremy just seems happy to see me eating something, "Um, how was your day?"

I ask this cause it's a way to get Jeremy to stammer on for a little while. I talked if I had to, make an occasional comment, but I kind of hated it. My voice had been permanently deepened, but it still sounded too high for me, and I'd started losing control over my lisp. Plus I was still kind of anxious around Jeremy. He'd been that way around me as well, but he seemed to have mellowed out already.

Apparently these last few days, Jeremy had finally gotten Michael to meet up with the others at lunch after constant pestering. That was good, I think. I had a few interactions with Michael (One of which I had been stoned out of my mind on pain killers and asked him out on a date which he was holding me to because... Well, He's Michael I guess), He had friends other than Jeremy but at the same time he was used to Jeremy only really having him. So, this was just a natural step up from everything. Jeremy refrains from saying too much about them, which I'm a little grateful for. Because they definitely don't know I'm still alive. Or, if they did, they didn't care about me. Hell, I kind of got the feeling that if I tried to approach them they'd just throw me to the wayside, which I probably deserve.

"That sounds good," I remark when he's done.

"Yeah... I'm happy for him. Like, I said I just wanted him to do it this one time. I don't really force Michael to interact with anyone, but He seemed alright through all of it and I think he'll go hang around them tomorrow... Oh! I almost forgot-" He reaches into his backpack, and pulls out a folder for me. More schoolwork, no doubt. He'd taken up a habit of getting my missing class assignments and letting me copy off any notes we shared... Well, I mean, I did that before to an extent but this time I wasn't hurting him over it... I was still really behind in school, despite my best efforts. I'd only gotten the ability to use my arms again some time ago and needed to take a lot of breaks while writing. Sometimes the nurses would catch me up late and make me stop because I was 'straining' myself.

The sight of the new packets makes me grimace. "This much? This doubles my whole workload again..."

Jeremy seems remorseful. "Sorry about that, dude... These are supposed to be for over the holiday, though. So you got two and a half weeks." He tries.

"I know you're trying to make me feel better, Jeremy, but please shut up," I grumble, slouching as much as I can into the hospital bed. 

Jeremy is silent after that... I feel a little bad for snapping and nudge the Pizza box in his direction. He hesitates, but takes a small slice and picks the bits of pineapple off. I didn't think much of it. I wasn't gonna finish this whole thing by myself anyways. Even if I was shit at expressing it, I did appreciate that he took time out some of their day to check in on me... It was more than I could say about Jake or Chloe or Anyone else in that group of people. Hell, he came over more than my Dad did... Or Steven... Cause, He hasn't come over at all (not that I blame him).

After that exchange, we get going on our school work. We start from where I had left off this morning, and He gets me caught up to the first week of December in English, But that's easy. My other subjects are still backed to about the 2nd week of November. Jeremy just says that we'll work on it tomorrow morning...

Tomorrow morning?

"Tomorrow's Friday though?" I question.

"Yeah, and?" 

"What about school?"

Jeremy pauses, almost as though realizing he forgot to mention something. "Oh! Right, uh- Well; I thought maybe since you're still behind, I'd take tomorrow off and help you out _all day_ instead of just after class."

...That was the last thing I would've expected. "You don't have to." I mumble, "I mean, I don't want _you_ getting behind just to help _me_ out."

He frowns. "Well, I already gave a note to the office with my dad's signature on it. So... I'm afraid I'm gonna be here whether you like it or not." He says with a shrug. "Besides, It's only the last day before winter break. I'm not really gonna miss much except the holiday assembly and a few class parties... And even then Michael said he's swipe some sweets for us."

I just feel bad he went through all that trouble for _my_ sake. "Well, guess I'll be seeing you then."

Jeremy gently ruffles the hair on top of my head. "See ya, buddy." His hand leaves slowly... Despite me not really believing them, Dr. Canonico's earlier words echo back in my head.

I stop him just before he's out of reach. "Wait, Jeremy?" 

He stares at me, and for a moment I consider dropping it. I consider not saying anything. But, I keep going:

"Are... Are we friends?" I ask, partially to clarify and partially to stall myself.

He seems surprised. "Whu-? Y-yeah? I mean... Did I make you think we weren't?"

I feel sheepish now, and start to fidget. But, once I do I feel a phantom pain and freeze. "I just... I know we talked a lot about the SQUIP, and you come over to help me out every week, But I thought you just kind of pitied me?" I hide my face a little.

...I feel his hand return to my hair. It usually finds it's way there. Somehow, miraculously, the very top of my head was relatively untouched by my inferno prison, so it was a safe spot for contact.

"Look... I know we weren't exactly chummy before. But, you've given me no reason not to give you a second chance since you got that thing out. Michael gave _me_ one when I nearly fucked everything up, I don't see why you shouldn't get that same."

I look up at him. "So...?"

He smiles. "So, Yeah... We're friends. If you want to be."

I let out a breath, feeling some of my anxiety leave me. "Okay... So... When I get back to school, do you think you could like... Keep an eye on me? You don't have to talk to me in public or nothing but-"

"Of course."

I look at him. "R-really?"

"Yeah. I was gonna do that anyway. What kind of friend would I be if I just let someone deal with all of that by himself?"

I feel my eyes grow a tad watery, but no tears produce... I haven't cried in a year, I'm not going to now. I just smile. "Thank you, Jeremy."

He waves goodbye as he leaves, taking the leftovers and garbage from 'lunch' with him... And, once more, I'm alone. I just lie around. Hell, that's all I can really do.

...

[ _She takes good care of me, just keep saying my love is true._ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2P49LZ4FBTU)

...

I pause from doing nothing. Where had that come from? It definitely wasn't my own words, the few poems I'd ever written in my life (which were for a class) sucked. I hummed the stanza again. Ah, they were lyrics. It was a song. It had that different bounce to it that a poem would lack. Still, I can't for the life of me figure out where I had heard it. Maybe it was in a car ride or two, it was definitely multiple times though because my memory was shit.

As I hum, more notes come to me. A chorus? Maybe. It's different from the verse I'd just sung, but the bounce was present and it makes a nice melody. No additional lyrics fill the bounce, But I hum enough sometimes I can make out the faint strum of a guitar when I go quiet again. But, despite my best efforts, the song escapes me just as soon as it comes. I don't get any more than what I had on pure accident because my brain remembered a slight rhyming scheme.

And, once more, I'm left with just the faint beep-beep-beeping of my vitals monitor. I glance out the window. But, in this lighting, it's hard to look out of it. Instead, my reflection stares back at me in the glass. It's warped, off-color, and far enough away that I can't even make out the irises of my own two eyes (Well, one eye, the other is a little squinted from how my face bandages are contoured). He just stares back at me from the outside world, almost mocking me with his obscured sense of freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAannnnnd that's the first chapter!!! As always comments are greatly appreciated :)


	3. Redundant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now I cannot speak, I've lost my voice  
> I'm speechless and redundant  
> 'Cause "I love you"'s not enough  
> I'm lost for words
> 
> ...
> 
> Rich is finally discharged from the hospital, but finds himself directionless in his newfound freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Alcoholism. Recalling Traumatic Events (House Fire). Existentialism.

[I sat up in my bed, staring anxiously at the door...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MIPXds8l6Y) The last thing I needed was for my dad to catch me off-guard when I came in. I was finally allowed to go home today, and thank god because I miss being in my own bed. I just hoped my old man remembered to bring me a change of clothes because the ones I came in were beyond saving. Not only had they been burned to a crisp, but the doctors had to cut them off me to get to my burns. The only thing that was salvageable technically was the jacket, but I had them toss that too. I didn't need any more reminders of that night, my whole body was already fucked up beyond recognition.

I catch my reflection again in the glass window. It seems just as uneasy as I am, maybe even more so. But, that's probably just cause I can see it better when it's staring right back at me. I frown and turn back to the door. Which, I'm glad for, because soon enough my dad is walking in... and thank god he brought a bag of clothes with him. He sets them on the edge of my bed. 

"Here, get changed, nurses wanted to talk to me." He says. And before I know it he's gone. I blink... Definitely sober. That explained his behavior. I wasn't gonna get my hopes up, I bet he'd be guzzling down bottles the second we got home. I open the bag. Thankfully, when my SQUIP changed my wardrobe it left nothing I hated in there. I carefully change, once or twice aggravating some of my wounds but managing to get them on without too much of a hassle. It's only a tee shirt and some jeans though, and I could already tell it was hella cold outside. But, I know better than to complain.

I shove my schoolwork into the bag, carefully nestling Todd in on top of it, and slowly walk outside into the hall. It hurts to carry the bag when it's this full, but thankfully My Dad's not far away talking to "I think it's Sue". She hands him a small bag, which I can tell has extra bandages and my prescription ointment for my burns. I bid goodbye to her, and follow my dad out... We were quiet for most of the walk, and for the first few minutes of the drive. Beth Israel was a little far from home, and it was a bit weird. A totally quiet drive.

Then, Dad spoke up. "You're not getting Christmas gifts this year. Can't afford it."

"I understand," I mumble.

He flattens back into his chair, eyes not leaving the road. "Good. Act nice or it's your birthday next, ya hear?" 

"Okay."

"Atta g̸͚͒i̶͖̓r̴̳̿ḷ̸̈.̶͎̄"

I grip my head, wincing a little. It was some phantom SQUIP thing. It used to block out people misgendering me, now I can't hear it at all. In some ways, it was a blessing. I never had to hear my deadname again. But, in others, it wasn't so different. It hurt just the same, maybe even more physically. And if I ever met someone with my deadname, I got the feeling it wouldn't differentiate.

After that small exchange. we fall into quiet... Just our regular routine on these few sober days. He does stop to get us fast food, grumbling something about this counting as my dinner. I wasn't about to complain. I could tell, despite everything, this was a good mood for him. I wasn't going to ruin that while it lasted. By the time we got home I mostly just wanted to rest, so I took my food back to my room... My dad doesn't say anything about it, and I don't say anything when I see him grab a bottle out of the fridge.

* * *

Nightmares **_really_ **fucking sucked now.

I used to have them on occasion before I got my SQUIP... Afterward, it would suppress them for me, except as an occasional punishment or when the nightmare was so emotionally charged that I couldn't do anything (or so, it claimed)... But, ever since I got it out they'd just been worse. Dr. Canonico said it was some sort of anxiety thing. My brain was attempting to work through the trauma by reliving the event in the only way it could. Though, it was also likely boosted by my pain medication. They actually had adjusted my dosage and even switched them out to see if that would make a difference, but they stayed about the same. I was hoping maybe the pills they sent me home with would be different, somehow, but either the pills had nothing to do with them or they were just the same as whatever they had in my IV bags. 

They varied in intensity, but this was probably one of my worse ones... This time I was back in Jake's basement, just after the gas bottle exploded. Everything around me was burning; my arms, my legs, the couch, and the pool table. For a room lined entirely with concrete, it was surprisingly flammable. I didn't think it would spread this fast... I didn't think it would spread beyond the door... Someone approaches through the flames. I try to reach my arm out, I think I'm begging for help but I can't understand myself... I can't understand myself... I'm staring straight up at myself. Only... I'm different. I'm more well put together. I'm not burning to a crisp or screaming in pain... I'm just staring at me. 

And I'm disgusted with myself... I turn around, leaving me behind despite my begs and pleas to help help help-

I shoot up from my bed too quickly and have to ease back down after a sharp pain hits my chest. I curl on my side, like the doctors would have me to do breathe easier, and just keep taking breaths until it stops hurting. My burns irritate themselves, too hot under all the bandages, and I end up kicking my blanket off my body until it's bunched somewhere at the foot of my bed... I pull a loose shirt off my alarm clock, 2:45, and groan. It was too early for this shit. But, I knew from experience I wasn't going to be going back to bed any time soon. So, I slowly sit up and turn on my bedside lamp.

My room is an absolute mess. If my SQUIP were here, I'd be hearing endless reprimands about how it makes me look like a huge slob. But, truthfully, I found some comfort in the mess. The hospital was all too clean, impossibly clean (it had to be), but the absence of any messes made it feel absent of any living... Here, my room looked like a tornado came through it and brought with it the reassurance that It was actually lived in. I glance around at my proud mess... And crack a window open when I realize it's too hot and smells like ass. It was freezing outside, Ice covered the ground and a mid-December snow was starting to pile up.

I remember a time when I used to be happy about snow. Now I just sighed because I'd have to stay inside... Assuming my dad didn't make me go out and shovel. I couldn't layer up too much because it'd put pressure on my wounds, and I couldn't really do anything about that except wear fewer layers. But, that brought it's own problems. If I got too much snow on them, they'd soak through the bandages and I'd have to re-wrap them so they wouldn't get mushy and infected... If they got too cold they'd sting just as bad as if they were too hot. I just hoped it stopped snowing this heavily by 3PM since I had plans. But, right now the cold air was a little comfortable, and it ventilated the room. I just needed to remember to shut it so I wouldn't cause our heating bill to skyrocket. Still, the room stays a little stuffy for a while... I decide the best way to let it cool down is to leave for a few minutes and come back to it. At first, I consider going to get myself a glass of water from the kitchen, but I notice my dad is asleep in the living room and decided not to disturb him... So, instead, I go into Steven's room.

I'd gotten a glimpse of it yesterday when I got home. My dad said sometime after I left for the party he'd just packed up all his stuff and didn't come back. He was gone before midnight and wasn't responding to any messages... 

I try not to dwell on it. I just observe the state of the room as it currently is. The bed is unmade, covers and sheets tussled about. The bookshelf is empty save for a few children's books we probably just forgot to get rid of and a little velvet bag full of souvenir rocks from a long-forgotten museum visit. The floor is bare, no clothes or magazines or anything of the sort was strewn about. The desk drawers are all opened. I take a breath as I step inside to look at it more... Despite being absent for over a month by this point, the room still smells like him. That weird mix of sweat and deli meat from the supermarket he worked at during his gap year.

I check the mini-fridge. No food, he must've taken that with him, but there are a few bottles of water. I take one and leave the rest for later nights. Even when he hates my guts, somehow this guy manages to smother me. I take a swig of water... And as I do I wish it was slightly alcoholic. I can't help it, I know that keeps the SQUIP at bay. Even though Michael kept insisting it was gone for good, I couldn't help but worry that it was still in the back of my mind; Lurking, waiting, ready to come back in full force at any moment... I prepare to walk back to my own room, figuring it's cooled off by this point, when my foot grazes something that's poking out from under his bed. I screw the cap back on the water and kneel down to pick it up. I recognize it as his personal CD player... We could only afford so much Internet (and I ended up using most of it), so generally we bought a lot of physical media. Steven had a huge collection of CDs, and it looks like in his hurry he left behind this and a disk... No, two. One was in the player, the other had been placed into what definitely was the wrong case.

_Green Day Presents: American Idiot_

It matched a poster he used to have hanging near his bed. I open the case... Only, American Idiot isn't inside, instead, there's a yellow disk with some track listings and the word ' _Nimrod_ ' printed directly in the center... At least, I think it says nimrod. The letters are cut off by the hole in the center. I pop open the portable player... Ah, There's _'American Idiot',_ With a much neater layout for the track listings than it's yellow counterpart disk... But, considering 'nimrod' is synonymous with 'dumbass', maybe it's meant to be like that on purpose.

I shake my head, not thinking about it too much... I end up taking the player and disks back to my room with me. The batteries are dead from what I can tell, and I don't have those or any headphones on me right now, so I can't listen to them. But, I'd rather my dad not stumble in there and smash them to bits in a drunken rage. So, I'll just let them live in my underwear drawer with a new DIY packer and a stolen porn magazine for the company. After settling them in, I shut the window and crawl into my now freezing bedsheets... It's more comfortable than it had been before. But, as my clock now flashes 4:05, I know I won't be going back to sleep... I just settle in, hoping that if I rest my head against my pillow long enough I can trick my brain into thinking it's asleep and avoid any headaches a few hours from now.

...There is a brief moment, where I feel around my covers in a panic. I check every corner of my bed, trying to find- Oh, he fell on the floor, right into one of my dirty shirts. I scoop Todd up, nestling him under my chin. I dunno why I was so damn attached to this thing, but fuck if he didn't make me feel better. I was going to hold onto that for as long as I could.

* * *

The small headache I do end up with lets way at the scent of instant coffee and dulls out once the caffeine is actually coursing through my blood. I avoid talking to my dad, instead eating some dry cereal straight from the box and going into my room to use my dinky laptop. At least it worked. Then, I shoot a message to Michael... Yeah, He was still holding me to the date thing. I think he mostly took it as a joke, or maybe he actually was interested. But, I was okay with that. Michael was a pretty neat guy when we chatted, I wouldn't mind spending an afternoon with him.

 **rich.goranski:** Hey, just checking in, we still good for 3? Wanted to be sure since it snowed last night.

 **micha_mell:** Hey Rich! Yeah we're still good... Why r u using twitter?

 **rich.goranski:** Oh... My phone sort of melted during the fire.

Thankfully, it'd been in my coat pocket... The docs said if it had been in my pants it might've blown up or fried itself to my leg or something (My packer wasn't as lucky). Dad already said I wasn't going to get any Christmas gifts this year, So asking him for a new one was out of the question.

 **micha_mell:** Oh... sorry about that dude.

 **rich.goranski:** It's fine, not like I have anyone to call rn that I can't find on twitter.

 **micha_mell:** The wonders of modern technology.

 **micha_mell:** ...I know u said u were gonna meet me there, but If u want I can pick u up at your house? My cruiser can take it, and I'd hate to make you go out in the snow.

I paused for a moment... I wasn't sure how far Michael lived from my house, and I felt a little bad about making him go out of his way to get me. But... I couldn't exactly walk in the snow. So I send my address over.

 **rich.goranski:** I hope it's not too far.

 **micha_mell:** Not at all! ur p close to Jeremy's house and I drive there all the time.

I blinked... Huh. Well, that made me feel a little better. Michael came around this way anyhow, so he was used to driving this far. I lean back in my chair for a bit. I was glad Michael was giving me a second chance, and I did think he was a neat guy... Maybe this date would go well, give me a sign of what's to come in the future. I could use one of those... A sign. Or any sense of direction really. I thought for a moment about how I needed to prep myself...

Shower? They told me to wait until my bandages needed to be changed, and I still had another day to do that. I could get it done now, but it was kind of a hassle. I just lather on some deodorant and wash off my face.

Hair? A little greasy, and sort of mussed out of my face cause of a bandage on my forehead... I should probably cover it. I find a red hat in my closet, and laugh briefly when I realize it's like that one in The Catcher In The Rye. Whatever, it'll do. 

Breath? Hard to tell, I brush my teeth to be safe and pay extra mind to my bandaged cheek when I get to that side.

Gift? Do I need one? It's only the first date? I don't think Michael was gonna bring anything... I'll pay for our food, I have some leftover money in my stash for that...

I glance at my clock... All of that figured out and it's only 12... I rest on my bed and keep staring blankly at my wall... Just breathing... Not really thinking but not really sleeping either. My reflection stares at me from my Mirror again. It says I should be doing something productive while I wait. It says I have a lot of homework to catch up on. It says even if I don't do the homework I could at least look around for batteries or spend time picking out an outfit. It says-

I hear a ding on my computer, and it pulls me out of it. I walk over and look at it.

 **micha_mell:** Just leaving, b there in 5. 

**rich.goranski:** Okay! see you then!

It's about 2:45 now. PM. Guess that's my lucky number today. Okay, I can do this... I take a deep breath, and just focus on getting my clothes on. I check myself out in my mirror. Alright, that's fine. Another ding on the computer. I don't need to look at it to know that Michael's waiting outside. I go to my window, pop off the bug screen, hop out, and put everything back in place so expertly it almost scares me. Then, I trudge through the snow to Micahel's car... A PT Cruiser. It looked warm at least.

I shake my head. No, Not trying to be judgemental. I open the door.

"Hey!" I greet as I get in, Michael just stares at me for a moment... I feel like a deer in headlights. "...Did I do something?"

"You came out through the window..." Michael mumbles. 

Oh, right. Most kids didn't have to sneak around their alcoholic father. "Yeah, I mean... It's a ground-level window! Gotta take advantage of that!" 

He blinks, and seems to buy it. "Oh, I guess you do huh?' He laughs, "I live in a basement, so all the windows really are _ground-level_ , but they're not too good for getting places." He pulls out of my driveway.

Okay, one conversation down, now to just keep this going for a whole date.

* * *

It was a bit of a rocky start, to say the least...

The restaurant I was planning to head out to ended up being closed from the snow. I was upset, but Michael was chill and didn't mind the change of plans. We ended up going to a Starbucks drive-thru and getting toasted croissants and large hot chocolates, instead. I didn't like croissants too much, but I didn't complain and still insisted on paying. When Michael tried to refute, I justified it with the fact that he was driving us around. He took it, seeing it as a fair trade-off. It was too icy to really go anywhere, but Michael ended up driving us out to a little park not too far away and we just sat in the car and watched some kids have a snowball fight. 

I swallow a bite of my croissant. "Y'know, I can't remember the last time I had a snowball fight."

Michael cocks a brow. "What? Really? Are they like... _Uncool_ or whatever?"

I shake my head. "No... Well, Yeah, but also I just never really had anyone to have a snowball fight with..." I say.

Michael frowns. "...Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, once my brother got into High School he didn't really have a lot of free-time anymore so there wasn't much of a reason to go outside on snow-days."

Michael took a sip from his hot chocolate. "I guess not... Jeremy and I still have them sometimes, y'know when we're not busy or sick and there's enough snow."

I nod. "That's cool." 

We're quiet for another few moments, then he talks. "Um, You don't have to answer if you don't want to but... What was it like, having that thing in your head?" I blink for a moment, and he clarifies himself. "L-like, I ask Jeremy sometimes, cause I really _want_ to understand it... But I don't quite get the whole picture." He says.

I feel a bit squeamish thinking about it, but I could understand where he was coming from. "Okay... Um... It's like, having a _really_ strict teacher," I try, "You do what they say, they stay satisfied. If you don't, you get a bad grade and if you're really bad you get a slap with a ruler... Or, I guess now just sent to the office with a note on your behavior." I shake my head. "It's like that, only it keeps going on when you get home. It doesn't end, it doesn't take a break unless you decide to get high or drunk that night, you're stuck with it constantly."

Michael's eyes widen. "That's..." He sighs, "That's worse than how Jeremy described it."

I shrug. "Not to downplay how bad it is but, Jeremy only had his for 3 months, I had mine longer. And, honestly, I'm glad Jeremy and the others didn't have to deal with it for that long."

Michael frowns. "Still, that must've sucked."

I shake my head. "Well, I'm sure it did... It caused me a lot of pain... But, It acts so damn nice and helpful when you first get it that you start to feel _bad_ for it after a while? Technically, it did everything it was programmed to do, it just doesn't have any human emotions to stop it from trying by any means necessary..."

I feel a hand gently graze my shoulder. "I'm... Sorry. That, you had to go through that. And like, computer or not, you shouldn't have been treated that way."

I pause for a moment and let out a breath. "Well, thanks... Let's try to keep this conversation happy though, yeah?" I know he asked, but I couldn't help but feel like I was dragging everything down by talking about it. Michael gives me a look.

"Are you sure? If you need to talk about it I don't mind."

I paused again... Did I need to talk about it? I was quiet for a bit. "...It's fine. Really." I say, though the uncertainty in my voice is hard to mask. Michael gives me a concerned expression but decides to drop it. He instead takes a sip from his hot chocolate and glares at it.

"I always forget how bland Starbucks coco is." He grumbles. I blink.

"Oh, so I'm not crazy?" I ask, "I'm not the only one who thinks it just tastes like thick water?"

Michael shakes his head. "Nope! It's terrible. My Ina can make WAY better stuff than this in less time."

We spend the next few minutes complaining about the hot chocolates, but still continue to drink them until they're gone. The conversation does switch topics a few times... But, it goes by so quickly it's hard to really remember when we talked about what... Even if we did it for hours in actuality. By the time we finish, it's a little after 6 and we decide to call it a night and head home. Michael drives me back to my place, some soft reggae music plays through the cruiser's speakers... We take a long way back, making little comments on landmarks, at one point Michael just starts driving through random neighborhoods to look at Christmas lights... When we get closer to home he point out Jeremy's house, which is void of lights because he's Jewish. But, if you peeked hard enough you could see a box or two of Hanukkah stuff on standby through one of the windows... I wasn't sure when Hanukkah started, but I assumed it was relatively soon.

A few minutes later, the cruiser parks back into the driveway. I glance over at Michael and give him a smile.

"Hey, thanks for going out with me... I had a fun time." I said.

Michael smiles. "Yeah? Me too."

We sit in the car for a bit, and just smile at each other...

Michael pulls me in, he kisses me on the lips... 

My eyes shut...

And, I pull away. "...Wait."

He gives me a look, but doesn't say anything. It makes me feel worse about this.

"...This. This doesn't feel right." I mumble.

Michael's arms drop to his sides. "...If this was too fast for you then-"

I shake my head. "No it's not that it's..." I stop. And I think... For once, I'm able to think.

And I realize what it is. 

"...I don't know what I want."

The whole day, I'd sort of let Michael take the wheel (literally) and just went along with his suggestions. I hardly made any rebuts or interjections about it. I just, let it all happen and occasionally butted in with a joke... Nothing was different. I was falling back into those same patterns that I hated so much.

"...Rich?"

I look at Michael, and I grab one of his hands. "Michael, listen... You're a great guy. Kinda wished you asked before you kissed me-"

"Oh, shit, yeah sorry..."

I continue. "-And I know I did mean at least some of what I said when I was high as balls in that hospital room. But, I don't think this will work out... At least not right now. I Just figured out I'm bisexual, but I don't think I can date anyone until I figure out how to live without that thing in my head."

Michael seems upset, just a for a moment... But, he pushes a smile. "Y'know. I think that's a very brave decision for you to make."

I blink. "Y...Yeah?"

"Yeah, It is."

I rub my arm. "...I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "No, don't I... I kinda forced you into today, I thought it'd be nice for you to get out a little." 

I look at him. "I mean, I agreed to it. I just... I guess I thought it'd be different."

Michael lets out a huff, as though he has more to say but refuses. I open the door but pause just before I step out.

"Michael?"

He looks back at me. I take a few breaths.

"If... If I had asked you out on a second date instead... Would you have said yes?"

He thinks over it for a moment. I feel antsy. 

Then he speaks. "I think you should be confident in the choices you make, and not worry about the what-if's left open by the path untaken... But, that means you have to accept that you'll never really know what the other path had in store for you."

I think about it... He was _totally_ dodging the question, but it was some good wisdom. "Right. Thank you, again. I think I needed this after being in the hospital for that long."  
Michael gives me another smile. "I'm glad we were able to have some fun. And, I hope you figure out whatever it is you looking for."

I smile and go back around the house to my window. I watch as Michael pulls from the driveway and leaves, going further and further down the road until the oncoming snow blurs out his tail lights and he vanishes into the powder. I pop off the bug screen, and reenter my smelly room... At least it's warm. I shut the window again and strip off some of the extra layers I'd been wearing. I look back down at my outfit once I've successfully peeled it from my body...

I wore this outfit for the better part of the day and I just now have decided: I hate every piece of clothing in this set. I pile them into my designated dirty clothes corner and dig through the bottom of my closet... I find an old, worn hand-me-down flannel that never quite fit because I never got as tall as my brother. I wasn't sure if I liked it, but I definitely didn't hate it... I grab a muscle-tee (why did I have so many of these?) and make sure to button the flannel up so I can't see it underneath... I dig around some more and find some lounge pants that I had gotten on my own accord... 

I glance at myself in the mirror, taking in everything. If it weren't for the red streak starting to fade away, I wouldn't have recognized it as my own reflection. It seemed unamused with my choice of outfit, and even more so with the fact that I hadn't redyed the streak yet. I mull over it. The streak was pretty cool, and I knew I still had half a bottle of dye leftover... It'd be a waste not to use it, right? Yeah... It would... I'll dye it tomorrow before my shower, I decide. And the reflection seems a little more pleased once I bring this thought to my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated.


	4. Before The Lobotomy (Broadway)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreaming, I was only dreaming  
> Of another place and time, where my family's from  
> Singing, I can hear them singing  
> When the rain had washed away all these scattered dreams  
> Dying, everyone's reminded  
> Hearts are washed in misery, drenched in gasoline  
> Laughter, there is no more laughter  
> Songs of yesterday now live in the underground...
> 
> Rich stays over at the Heere's during Hanukkah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Trauma-related Amnesia, Panic Attacks, Referenced abuse/neglect.

...

I'm breathing...

I'm breathing _terribly,_ but I'm breathing...

My body slowly readjusts to its surroundings, I slowly find myself grounding again... The air? Cold. The ground? Cold, damp, and a little slushy. The lighting? Sort of light but not that much, but it's winter so who knows what time it is?

I'm leaning against a streetlamp, I think... Yeah. A bare spot on my face that had been drenched in sweat starts to stick, but I pull away before it can get worse.

...The sad thing is, I'm not even phased by this. Being somewhere without remembering how I got there was somewhat of a normality for me now. It used to happen a lot, mostly before the SQUIP. Steven would be at work, and that meant sometimes I'd be alone with Dad. If things got bad, I'd blackout and wake up somewhere else, usually not far from home or close to the supermarket. I mentioned this to Dr. Canonico because I realized I had started forgetting bits and pieces from Halloween. He said it was likely a trauma response, a mix of Dissociation and Selective Amnesia (though, he also didn't feel comfortable giving a straight diagnosis since I was on pain killers). 

Knowing what it was didn't really make it any less terrifying to bounce back from. And the fact that this was the first time in a while didn't help. I stand up straighter, noticing a bag in my arms... My school bag, still filled with the Homework I had taken a break from the other day. Maybe I was in the middle of it... No, there are clothes in the front pouch, along with Steven's CD player... No Todd, which upsets me...

I can remember a little more... I stuffed them in there hurriedly. I grabbed the player because it'd been caught on a pair of my underpants, and sure enough, it somehow was still clamped down on the fabric. I was trying to leave quickly.

...Guess this meant I was out of the house until he cools off. 

A cold breeze is all it takes to prevent my mind from drifting off again... I try to figure out where I was going, or where I _should_ go.

Michael would be kind of awkward, considering our date, and I didn't know where he lived.

...Jake's house wasn't there anymore. And I don't think I could stomach running off to look at the remains. Even if it was, what would I say to him? And the others were too far to walk...

I keep thinking. Jeremy didn't live too much further from here, I remembered that from driving around with Michael... Yeah, Jeremy said we were friends. Maybe I could play this off as just wanting homework help and when it gets too late I'll pretend to call home... Would Jeremy's dad be okay with that? He cleared up that the guy wasn't actually a drinker but, I didn't know how he treated his son, not really...

I see a little flake of white fall from the sky, and another, and another... 

Well, it beat freezing to death out here. It's not like going home would be any better. I got no honor to lose, no values to uphold by not going there. I start walking again and notice something sticking out of one of the pockets on my bag... An old set of earbuds and some batteries of various kinds. Maybe music would help me calm down a little, even really rough punk music by this point. I get the player fixed up and plug them in. There's a guitar riff, blearing through one bud... The only working earbud. I stop it with frustration. I keep trying to configure the cord in any way that will get both sides working again, but it just wasn't gonna happen.

So much for travel music. 

I kept walking through the snow, feeling my pants start to soak up... Fuck, I was gonna ruin my bandages. Did I pack those? Did I even grab my burn treatment? I can't remember, and I'm too afraid to check. I just keep trudging forwards, until I'm in the Heere's driveway. I peek in through the window. The lights are off downstairs, looks like there's dinner scraps in their sink (no plates? Just like, cookware), but no one is there. I huff, my breath sticking to the window. Okay, that wasn't gonna work. I circle the house, eventually spotting a second-story window with a low light on... Damn, these guys had a second story, fancy. Well, no matter. There's a tree branch that leads up to it. A frozen, probably slippery, tree branch.

...I've already made two poor decisions tonight.

I start climbing. It hurts, a lot. There's pains in my chest and sides, my fingers start going numb halfway up, but I'm already committed by this point. I balance myself until I reach a small section of roofing, and take a peek. There's a small TV in the room, several nerdy posters strewn about (either being taken down or put back up), And a single bed that's been half-made. There's a desk facing away from the window, and a little mop of hair peeks up from the chair.

I'm about to knock on the window when he suddenly pivots his chair around and stares at me. I nearly jump, and he does too. I don't take it personally, I probably look like a zombie. I give him a nervous wave, keeping myself as steady as I can on this roof... I'm starting to slip. But, that's hardly a concern, because Jeremy rushes over and opens the window to let me in. 

"Rich! Are you insane?" He exclaims.

"Probably," I reply, leaning back against the wall once I'm inside. It's warm... Really warm. I hadn't realized how cold I was until I had been exposed to heat and started shivering.

Jeremy shuts his window and looks at me. "...Are you okay?"

I blink. "What makes you think I'm not?"

He gives me a look. "Uhhh, Because you just knocked on my window... In the middle of a snowstorm... at night? And you're _soaked,_ " He starts rummaging around his room. "Do you need a change of clothes or something?"

I shake my head. "N-no... I got some in my bag..." 

Jeremy looks at me again, this time with more distinguishable concern. "...Did something happen?"

I freeze, like a deer in headlights. Its in this moment I notice he's wearing one of those Hanukkah hat things... I don't wanna worry him more, and start to lie. "N-No. Why would you think something-" I pause, realizing it's kind of useless to lie right now. "I um... I just... I think I need a place to stay? Just for the night?" 

He lets out a breath. "Okay."

We're quiet for a moment. "Th... That's it?"

He shrugs. "Yeah? I mean, you don't seem up to talk about it right now so, whatever... Uhh, You want me to leave while you change or-?"

"Oh! Yeah, that'd be great um... Thanks."

He sets a folded towel on his bed. "That's for you, by the way... Um, just like, wait here for now, yeah?" He shuts the door behind him and judging by the sound of his footsteps he walks away. I didn't really mind, more privacy for me. I strip, dry myself off as best and as gently as I can with the towel, and slip the other set of clothes on... I didn't bring sleeping pants, just jeans, but whatever, I wasn't picky right now. I couldn't afford to be. I hesitate a little when I get to my tank top. I didn't wanna pull it off, but it was too wet to keep on too.

I end up just standing in the middle of the room, my damp clothes bunched up in the now used towel at my feet... Until I get sick of standing and just sit on a rug. There's a set of beanbags in the closet, and an unused blanket, but whatever lingering bit of stubbornness that's still holding on doesn't let me admit I need them. Even without anything to lose, I'm afraid to reach out for something.

I see my reflection in the window. This time, he's the one who's trapped. He's out in the cold, no way to warm himself... Meanwhile, I have an abundance of things to keep warm with, yet I restrict myself to my clothes and the heater as to not be rude. So, really, what makes us any different?

I hear footsteps again. At first, I think it's Jeremy coming back. But, no, they're a bit heavier than Jeremy's. So, they must be his fathers. My breathing stills. I go just about as quiet as I can be. There's a knock on the door, I can't tell what the volume of it is.

"Jeremy? We should probably start in a few minutes, you coming down?"

Crap. He thinks I'm his son. Maybe I could pretend? No, no He'll just run into the real Jeremy downstairs and get confused. I spend so much time thinking about what to do that I miss my window to do anything but stand there. Mr. Heere peeks his head inside, and stares right at me. He definitely wasn't expecting me to be standing there, a boy who looked half dead and was very much _not_ his son. He yelped. I felt a little bad for scaring him, and take a step closer. 

"S-sorry." I stammer, hoping it was audible with my lisp and shivering. Mr. Heere takes a deep breath and very quickly settles his head.

"Rich, right? It's an alright sport. Just wasn't expecting you," He assures, standing up a little straighter. "Sooo... You got discharged?"

I nod. "Earlier this week, yeah."

He nods back. "Good." He seems like he's having just as much trouble speaking as I am right now. 

I can feel my breath starting to leave me. "H-Hey um, Jeremy didn't invite me? I let myself in so... Y'know. Not his fault that I'm here."

Mr. Heere cocks a brow. "Why would that be a problem?"

"I-I didn't say it was a problem I just... y'know."

He seems concerned. But before he can voice any of it Jeremy rushes over.

"Dad, Hey um... Rich is spending the night." He explains quickly. He does a simple hand motion, which Mr. Heere seems to understand. I'm not sure what it means, but he doesn't prod for much more than that.

"That's fine with me, as long as you boys get some homework done tomorrow..." He pauses for a moment and hums like he was trying to remember something. "Oh! Right, Jeremy We should light the Menorah soon."

Jeremy peeks out his window. "Oh, Yeah... It's starting to get dark, huh?" He sets a glass of water down on his desk, then turns to me. "Uhh, Rich, you can just wait up here if you want-"

"You're welcome to join us for observation." Mr. Heere finishes. 

Jeremy rubs his neck. "Uh Dad, it's fine, He's not-"

"I'd love to." I reply. They both seem surprised but in different ways. I bite my lip a little. "But um, I don't really know the customs so I um, might just watch?"

Mr. Heere smirks. "That's quite alright." He walks downstairs, Jeremy and I linger behind for a moment.

Jeremy eyes me, holding an extra one of those hats him and his dad are wearing. "You don't have to if you don't want to. Like, most kids at school probably wouldn't..."

I shrug. "I'm curious..." I say, following him through the house. My own home isn't particularly religious. We celebrate Christmas, but it's like... _American_ Christmas, not Catholic Christmas. We buy each other some new-ish clothes and Dad stays sober long enough to watch some crummy old special on TV and we call it good. I've never experienced Hannukah before, so maybe that will be enlightening in some way. Besides, I'm a guest at their house, so I should respect their customs. He gestures and mumbles for me to put on the "Kippah", and I do.

Mr. Heere dims the lights a little, and Jeremy leads me over to the Menorah in their front window. I look at it for a moment. "So Um, how does this, um... y'know?" I keep my voice a little low. I dunno quite how sacred this is in their religion, but I want to be respectful.

Jeremy starts. "Oh, well um... First, we light the Shamash," He pulls the candle in the highest peg out of its spot, "And then we use that to light the other candles and say a prayer. And after that, we eat."

Mr. Heere takes the candle, and starts flickering a lighter. I keep my gaze away... I'm fine with like, contained fires, but I'd rather not watch them as they spark. Thankfully, he speaks over the clicking. "If it's the first night, we also say the Shehecheyanu. But, tonight's the third." 

Much like Jeremy had explained, his father takes that candle and uses it to light three others. They start praying in Hebrew. I'm not really sure what to do, since I don't exactly speak it, so I keep on my earlier word... Stay quiet and stay respectful. It's interesting to watch... Am I just watching? Does this count as participating? I wasn't sure, Mr. Heere said "observe" which was a little vague. Did he mean that in a religious manner? Or just that I was watching? I gaze at the Menorah for a moment, my reflection is in the window again but this time the candlelight obscure him somewhat, I just can make out the redyed streak of red and a bit of my shoulders...

Maybe it didn't matter what Mr. Heere meant so much as what it meant to me. And, right now, this meant a nice peaceful moment after whatever had just happened earlier today, which was well needed.

After they finish their prayer, Mr. Heere brightens the lights up a little. He smiles over us. "Now then, Who wants Latkes?"

My stomach growls very loudly and unexpectedly, and my face heats up with shame. "S-sorry."

Jeremy laughs. "Don't worry about it, Dude. You're saying what we're all thinking."

Mr. Heere pulls a bunch of food out of the oven. It looked like it'd been pre-cooked, and only set in there to stay warm. But, that didn't mean it didn't smell any less good. On the kitchen counter was a nice array of Potato Pancakes, a somewhat dried brisket, and something that kind of looked like a jelly donut. I grab a little bit of everything, trying not to be too greedy. It looks like there's more than enough, but I wanna be courteous. This was _their_ holiday, I was just an outsider who wanted to see what it was like. 

I took a bite of the food, and practically melted... Had I eaten anything else today? I couldn't really remember, but this was probably the best food I had ever had the pleasure of eating. It was just was I needed at that moment. I ate until my plate was gone, little more than crumbs. I felt nervous about asking for seconds, so I just sat quietly at the end of the table.

"So, Richard, how have things been since you got home?" Mr. Heere asks.

I'm not completely sure how to answer that. "F-fine... Just takin' it easy."

Mr. Heere doesn't seem too weirded out by this answer, thankfully. "Well, that's nice. Getting out during your break is good for you I think, gives you time to ease back into life."

I nod a little. "Y-yeah."

Jeremy pipes in suddenly. "How was the food, Rich?"

I feel a little grateful for the change of subject. "Oh, It was good!" I reply, "Really good..."

"There's seconds if you want." Mr. Heere smiles, "We'll be making more fresh tomorrow anyways."

I pause for a moment... Well, now it seemed rude to refuse seconds. I walk over to grab more. But, as I do my foot hits a step... I forgot about the step...

...

...

...

"Rich, You need to breathe."

...Breathe?

"That's it Rich, it's okay..."

I'm staring at my hands... One of them isn't mine, there's three... I'm gripping that one like a lifeline.

"I-It was an accident."

"We know, Rich."

"I didn't mean it."

"Rich, It's just a plate. You're more important right now."

I can see Mr. Heere watching from a distance, and squeeze my eyes shut. He's probably pissed about the plate. He's probably mad I ruined his family time. He's probably-

"Rich you're hyperventilating again."

"S-sorry."

"In for 4 seconds, hold for 7 seconds, out for 8 seconds."

I do as instructed, keeping my face buried in the crook of Jeremy's neck. I remember the grounding exercises that Dr. Canonico and the Nurses would have me do in the hospital. I lift my head just long enough to look around the room.

Okay, I can do this...

Window, Counter, Chair, Shattered Plate, Hair.

Deep Breath...

My breathing, Jeremy's breathing, Faint Music, Electric Humming.

Electric humming?

It's the fridge... It's the fridge.

Deep Breath.

Latkes, Donuts, Brisket.

Deep Breath.

My shirt, Jeremy's arms.

Deep Breath.

Saliva with a bit of jelly.

Deep Breath.

I let go of all my tension, pulling away a little. I realize that the side I fell on really hurts.

"S-sorry."

Mr. Heere takes a cautious step forward. "Did you cut yourself anywhere?"

I take a quick look over myself. "No?"

He exhales. "Alright then. As long as you're not injured, I don't care about it."

I feel like he's just saying that, but out of fear of making the night worse I agree with it. "Okay."

Jeremy starts helping me to my feet. "Do you wanna lie down somewhere?"

I shake my head. 

"You sure?"

I nod. Jeremy takes me back to my seat at the table while his Dad takes care of the bits of the shattered plate that smashed into the hardwood and scattered about. I just focus on my breathing, steadying myself a little more...

A few minutes in, a second Jelly Donut enters my line of sight. Mr. Heere was just sort of holding it out on a napkin, expectingly... Maybe this was his way of trying to convince me that nothing was ruined... I take it, nibbling away at the pastry. I thought I wouldn't finish it, given how queasy my stomach felt, but somehow I did. It was probably the fact that, again, I hadn't really eaten anything all day except for what the Heere's had prepared. They join me at the table once the glass is all taken care of and act somewhat like nothing had even happened... Well, their voices were a little more quietly spoken. They didn't force me to say anything, which I was grateful for. I wasn't sure if I could talk even if I wanted to. Something about the way my throat felt like it was closing just made it impossible.

I wished for a moment, that this was my own home. That I was listening to Dad and Steven have a rare civil conversation. But, the time for that had long left.

The night mellows out again as the two of them just kind of chatter away about nothing, until Mr. Heere decides he's tired and turns in for the night. His only request was that the dishes end up in the sink... I was guessing that meant they were getting washed in the morning? Or was that him expecting us to wash them? I wasn't sure. But, I did know that once he was gone I felt a lot of... something vague, leave me.

"Hey, you verbal right now?" Jeremy asks, his voice is just above a whisper.

...Verbal? "Hm?"

Jeremy seems to understand the confusion, and rewords it. "Does it hurt to talk?"

I blink for a moment. "Um-" 

"Cause like, if you don't feel up for it I can get you a pen and paper?"

I take a breath. "...I think I'll live without it," I mumble.

Jeremy doesn't seem completely convinced, but he goes ahead with what I assumed he really wanted to ask. "Are you okay?"

I rub my arm, averting any eye contact. "...I'll live," I repeat.

He frowns, pausing for a bit. "Does my dad overwhelm you at all? Like, You don't seem completely comfortable around him, and if that's a problem I can-"

"I don't know why."

Jeremy stops, and he just waits for me to finish.

I rub my forehead. "He's not _my_ dad, he's acting nothing like the guy... I shouldn't be scared of him."

Jeremy scoots a little closer. "Well like, other than that one time in the hospital you haven't really been around him that much? I'm not surprised you're uncomfortable."

I shrug. "Yeah, I guess..."

Jeremy pauses for a moment. "Did you come over because you're dad... did something?"

I consider lying for a moment, but, I've told too many lies in my life... I don't really wanna lie to Jeremy. "Yeah. I don't remember what exactly? About an hour ago I just kind of came to out on the curbside with a badly packed bag so... I just assumed it wasn't good."

"Rich, I... I'm sorry."

I just sigh, staring down at the place-mat on the table. I can tell Jeremy is staring at me, but I don't mind it.

"...If you ever need a place to stay you're more than welcome to invite yourself over. Hell, you can just, not go home if you don't want to."

I mull over the idea. As good as not going home at all sounds, I can't completely stomach the idea. "I'll... think about it." I decide. "But, for now I think I'll just stay for the night and some of tomorrow. If that's okay..."

Jeremy yawns a little. "Sounds fine with me..."

We head up to his room not long after this... My still damp clothes were placed into Jeremy's laundry hamper, apparently he was going to wash his clothes tomorrow anyways so that would take care of that. Jeremy looks around for a bit, almost worryingly.

"What?"

"I um... I don't have a spare mattress." He mumbles, "But um, We have a guest room that just needs to be set up, or you could take my bed if you want?"

I frown. "I'd feel bad about that."

He pauses. "If you wanna share then like- I mean, I do it all the time with Michael so, I don't find it weird. But, I get why you might not be cool with that."

I shrug. "Um... If you just wanna give me a pillow I can just sleep on those beanbags you got in your closet?"

He blinks. "Oh, yeah. Sounds good." He walks to his closet and starts pulling out said objects. I rub my neck.

"How Is Michael, anyways? He seemed kinda beat up when I turned him down..."

"Huh? Oh, he's fine. I mean, he was a little bummed when we talked about it, but he's Michael. He never stays in the present very long. No offense to you, but he'll probably have a new crush by next week."

I nod. "Alright, good to hear. Like, he /did kiss me without asking but before then most of the date was alright. I just kinda realized I wasn't ready for that stuff."

Jeremy nods. "Yeah. He did the same on our first date."

I blink. "You guys dated?"

Jeremy chuckles. "I mean, sort of? It was very brief. We privately referred to ourselves as partners for like... 2 weeks in freshman year, but when we kissed for the first time it was like... Well, for me it felt like I was kissing my brother? We've been attached at the hip since kindergarten and we kinda just thought we were supposed to get together? But, we realized we didn't feel that way... Plus like, the sudden kiss was a bit of a turn-off."

I laugh. "Seriously! This isn't a cheesy rom-com, you can't just kiss someone out of the blue!"

Jeremy rolls his eyes. "Yeah Like, I think Michael just assumes other people are always on his page? And he can be a tad impulsive at times, But he's working on getting better with it," He sets the beanbags next to his bed. "Do you want different pants? Like, I don't think jeans would be the most comfortable thing to sleep in."

I blink. I'd almost forgotten about that. "Um, sure?" He pulls a pair of sweats out of his dresser and tosses them over. I take the time he spends looking for his spare pillow to swap out my legwear.

Once everything's set up I take the blanket from him, wrap it around myself, and carefully lay down. "Thanks... Like, not to assume, but you Heere's seem to have a good grasp on keeping your guests comfortable."

Jeremy chuckles softly."Well, I believe the phrase is 'make yourself at home,' is it not?" He flicks the lights off, and curls up into his own bed. "If you need anything don't be afraid to wake me up." 

I rest my head down, curling up for the night... It was strange. It wasn't the first time I had crashed over at someone's house, but it was the first time where I wasn't drunk or in the aftermath of a party. It was... Calm... Soothing... I wasn't sure if I liked it yet, but it was nicer than trying to sleep at home.

[...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vYxQoMZ-7To)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Chapter down. Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated.


	5. No Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honor's gonna knock you down  
> Before your chance to stand up and fight  
> Well, I know I'm not the one, I got no pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Discussion and Mentions of Abuse.
> 
> If you like this chapter, leave a comment at the end please!! I love hearing feedback!

_I'm breathing_

_I'm breathing in smoke._

_Everything burns, everything hurts, Everything is too much to handle. Shadows mock me from the smoke. Everyone's laughing, laughing so joyfully. I'm not sure if it's justified or fucked up. Everyone's laughing; Jeremy, Jake, Steven, Dad... No, Dad isn't laughing, He's just pissed off to hysterics._

...

...

...

I wake up with a shock, curling over on myself until I fall off the beanbags... I keep taking big breaths until my pains subside and the dream has started to leave my head. I reach around for Todd, before remembering he isn't here, and slump to the floor. I should probably be sad, crying even, but more than anything I'm just pissed. The rage I feel towards my past self is immeasurable in this small moment: For taking that stupid computer, for setting that stupid fire, and as trivial as it is compared to those two things I'm extra pissed about forgetting that stupid teddy bear.

I stand briefly, recollecting my surroundings... Right, I slept over at Jeremy's last night. For a moment, I'm surprised my tussling and groaning hadn't woken him up. Until I notice that he's not in bed anymore. I glance at his alarm clock... It's about 7:30, not too terribly early but by this point, we would already be in first period if it were class. But, I didn't wanna think about that right now. I peel myself off the floor and trudge towards the stairs. But, I freeze when I overhear Jeremy and his dad having a conversation. I wasn't going to listen originally, but it became apparent that they were talking about me.

"...He couldn't _remember_?"

"That's what he told me. He said that he 'assumed it was bad' and just came here after... I'm worried, Dad."

My stomach twists a little... They think I'm insane... They think I need to be fixed or some shit... 

Mr. Heere sighs. "Well, I'll look into things when I go back to the office... Just let him know he's welcome here whenever he needs it."

"Okay." 

"Why don't you ask him what he wants for breakfast? If he's awake, that is."

I hear Jeremy walking back upstairs and slip into his room again. He appears not long after, with an unusually friendly smile.

"Oh, good you're awake! We were gonna make breakfast soon, any requests?"

I glare at him. "You guys don't have to make me your pet project."

Jeremy blinks, and stammers. I stand up straighter, that overly comfortable defensive aura my SQUIP spent so long crafting surrounds me. "I'm not some broken porcelain doll that you guys have to glue back together again. I dunno what hokey fantasy you and your dad are living in where I can't handle myself, But you don't have to worry about me breaking under pressure. I can handle myself." I snap. Jeremy looks like he's about to argue, I can tell, but rather than get into it he pauses to breathe. The action itself catches me off guard.

"Okay," Jeremy begins, "I see your perspective. Could you listen to mine for a moment?"

...That /really caught me off guard. Normally by now, someone would already be yelling. But, I feel compelled to hear Jeremy out at least. "Okay."

He takes another breath. "You coming in through my window last night set off some red flags, as did your panic attack. My dad just wanted to check in and make sure you calmed down, and the concern of your father abusing you was brought up."

"You didn't have to tell him..." It's not their job to worry about me. I have enough on my plate already I don't have time to deal with-

Jeremy frowns. "Well... You spent most of the night brushing it off and acting like it's not serious even though by your own admission you thought it was 'bad'... And when you do that, I feel like I _have_ to ask someone else for help because there's only so much I can do in those situations _all by myself_. I know you're really weary with trust right now, rightfully so, but I promise we just want to help out. We aren't trying to 'fix' you, And I'm sure you can handle a lot of things by yourself, but we want you to be safe."

...It was really hard to argue when he was acting so maturely. It almost felt like he had scripted and rehearsed this entire conversation. But, he also spoke so genuinely about it that that didn't feel possible. I take a deep breath myself, exhaling all of it before speaking again. "I don't want you talking about this stuff behind my back... It makes me feel like I'm not part of the conversation, and... That's something my dad would do, he'd make the choice for me without giving me any say in the matter."

Jeremy nods. "Okay... That's reasonable. We'll include you next time and be better about this." He pauses for a moment. "I noticed last night you got quiet talking about it. I mentioned the clipboard thing before, and if that would help when you need to talk about it we'd be happy to accommodate for you? You don't have to say anything you don't want to, but if you're going to be included in these conversations then we don't want to be completely in the dark about whatever's happening."

I think over it and nod. "Okay, that... That sounds um, reasonable? We can work more out later."

"I'm sorry we made you feel patronized."

We're quiet again, for a few moments. And, once my brain settles I ask the question. "What just happened? Like, the talking thing?"

Jeremy goes back to his usual demeanor. "O-Oh, Um... My dad and I have been doing like... family therapy? Cause, we've been kinda bad in the communication department in the past and uhh... We make an active effort to use what we learn in that space in our normal lives?"

"Oh," I mumbled. "Well um, thank you for like... Listening? I wasn't really in the mood to argue but, that didn't really feel like we were?"

"Well, thanks for listening to me, too... I know it can be, um... Hard? To talk about this kind of stuff openly. And, again, we won't force it. But trust _is_ a two-way street, yeah?"

I nod. "R-right."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah just... Not used to having civil conflict resolution." I admit. [But, maybe I could start getting used to it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiEnyqHLrWk). It felt... nice.

Jeremy nods. "So um, you hungry? Not to make a decision for you, but my dad makes pretty good pancakes."

I smile. "Yeah... Assuming I have any room left after you guys fattened me up at dinner last night."

Jeremy laughs. "Good! That means you ate the food right!"

I laugh back. He offers his sleeve, which has fallen over his hand, and I take it so he can lead me along through the house again. I've only been in 2 rooms but even then it was a little hard to navigate around an unfamiliar space. We stop in the kitchen. Mr. Heere is reading something on a tablet, nursing a coffee down.

"Morning, Rich! You hungry?" 

I nod. "Um... yeah and..." I grip Jeremy's sleeve covered hand a little tighter. "...If you're going to talk about my home life... I'd like to be included in that."

Mr. Here blinks a few times. "Alright, sport, I hear ya. You want Pancakes?"

That was easier than I thought it would be. "Y-yeah, Jeremy was bragging about them so, that sounds good to me."

It's kind of a quiet morning after that... Mr. Heere just made some pancakes, and we helped by making other fixings to go with breakfast. We don't talk, we don't make any conversation at all... But, it's nice? It's not a malcontent quiet, it's one that almost speaks. It says 'We don't have to talk right now if we don't want to' and It's just... Tranquil.

That's the word. Tranquil. Like last night, only now I feel more like I'm part of the peace than someone just watching it unfold.

And, once we sit down to eat, the food tastes _amazing_. Having a part in making it almost made it taste better. It wasn't just a canned soup that got heated up over a stove, It was pancakes that had been freshly baked. It was probably the best meal I'd ever had, even counting that feast last night. At the end of it we quietly loaded the dishwasher, Mr. Heere went into the other room to watch TV, and Jeremy and I went up to his room to do our over-break work. 

Jeremy hands me his packet, which he's already started on. "You can just copy the stuff I have filled out if you want, but I'm not sure how right any of it is."

I shrug, but I do rewrite Jeremy's answers on my own page. "Hey, as long as I get this out of the way and not fall behind I'm as good as gold," I mumble... I still had a shit ton of make-up work... I probably could have it done by the end of the break if I still had my SQUIP, but working through all of it without it was hell. Assuming I could even work on it in the first place. I glance up for a moment. "So, you start on your math first?"

"Yeah, It's uh, it's the thing I'm the worst at so like... If I do it first then I'm not uh, completely burned out from my other work and I don't feel like I did it even more terrible? T-terribly? Y'know what I mean, yeah?"

I chuckle. "Yeah, I gotcha... I hate math, like every time I try to sit down and work on math by myself I just feel like my brain leaves my body. Or like, I'll just procra _th_ -... procra _stinate_ until the last minute." ...I feel a little self-conscious. My lisp had been slowly coming back since I gained the strength to talk again, but that was the first time I had to restart a word.

Despite my fears, Jeremy didn't even comment on it. "Yeah, Math sucks."

I finish copying up to where Jeremy had gotten to. And we start trying to figure out the problems he hadn't completed or skipped over during his initial go through of the packet. Thankfully, those times Jeremy came over to help me after school meant we knew we could work together well enough. Even if neither of us could figure out a problem, we generally balanced out... We work for maybe 3 hours, enough to get through the math packet but not long enough to get going on any of the other ones yet. We take a short break after so Jeremy can do his testosterone shot for the day. When he comes back, he's texting someone.

"Hey um, Do you wanna go to the Mall?" He asks.

"The Mall? Why?"

"Well um... Christine is down there right now and asked if we wanted to meet up. Well, Uh- She asked me, but I told her that I had you over and she said you could come too if you felt up for it? I kinda need new clothes anyway so..."

I paused for a moment. "...I wouldn't _hate_ it, but I don't really have money."

Jeremy shrugs. "That's fine, it's mostly just a 'hey let's do something together' thing. And you don't have to go if you don't want, but I don't think I'm gonna leave you alone as long as you need me."

I think over it more. I kinda wanted a change of scenery, time to let my mind settle down after all that school work. But... Well, there were people at the mall. And I was kind of a walking pile of bandages and scar tissue. I look over at Jeremy again. He hadn't given me any reason not to trust him.

I take a breath. "I want to, but I'm worried about people staring at me..." I admit. It takes just about all my willpower to do it.

Jeremy nods. "Okay... Okay. Well, me and Christine will be with you the whole time, if anyone so much as gives you a funny look we'll be happy to make them fuck off... And if you change your mind at any point we'll drop everything and come right back here. How's that sound?"

"That... Yeah. That sounds good." I say. If nothing else, it'd get me around and moving for the day.

* * *

Mr. Heere had driven us over... And actually gave us each a hundred dollars for window shopping. I refused it initially, but he insisted. "Let's call it your payment for helping with the dishes this morning," was his justification. It didn't convince me, really, but I knew there wasn't going to be any arguing with him about this. He dropped us off out front and said to call him whenever we were ready to go home. I stick to Jeremy's side, keeping my own gaze down. I was wearing some of his clothes: a graphic-tee and an extremely comfortable blue hoodie... But only because my own clothes were still in the dryer when we left. Once they were good I'd be putting those back on.

I can't remember the last time I was at the mall...

No, wait...

I can...

I shake my head.

"Hey, you alright?" Jeremy asks.

I take a breath. "Yeah, let's just go inside." I didn't wanna think about it.

We meet Christine not too far from the entrance, by one of those cell-phone kiosks with tacky-looking cases and screen protectors lined up. Her arm flaps up and down a little, something I had noticed she did when she was excited. My SQUIP once told me it was part of the reason she was considered "Odd", but truthfully even with it telling me to dislike it I just kind of accepted it as something she did. It would be odder (more odd? I dunno) if Christine didn't react with her whole body like that. Looking over, Jeremy's making a little fidget of his own. It's less noticeable, but his hand pats against his own hip...

Well, it's good to know they both have at least _one_ person who doesn't think twice about those things in their lives. They got their own little language, that's all they need.

Christine bounces over as we approach, meeting us halfway. "Hey, guys!" 

Jeremy holds out his arms, and Christine takes the offer and hugs him. "Hey, Chrissy! Hope we didn't keep you waiting!"

"Not at all!" She looks over to me now. "Hey, Rich! You're looking a lot better!"

"Thanks," I mumble... I feel like I'm forgetting how to talk to people who aren't Jeremy. Sure, Christine came in once or twice but, we didn't chat too much... Or if we did I was high. She did give me Todd though, something I'm more grateful for than I'd ever admit aloud. Plus Christine was kind of one of the few people I hadn't really fucked over, so I had that going for me.

She smiles. "Well, I didn't exactly have a plan, did either of you have a particular store you wanted to look at?"

"We could just walk around until we see something we like?" Jeremy suggests.

"Oooh, yeah! We can wait for the stores to surprise us with something!" Christine exclaims

"Sounds good to me," I add at the end, though I wasn't going to refuse either way.

I pause my thinking... Right, that's what the SQUIP would want, but this is what I want too? Ugh, this was confusing. Maybe I could buy some clothes I didn't completely hate.

Yeah, okay. That was my goal. New Rich Goranski's gotta have an aesthetic, right?

I catch my reflection in the window, in an outfit on display that's not too unlike what my SQUIP would pick out for me. It almost seems like it wants me to buy it, but I know anything in that particular store would be way too expensive for me to afford and keep walking along. We pass a few different stores; Spencer's, A Pretzel Stand, JC Penny, Payless-

I freeze for a moment... I think Jeremy must've frozen along with me because after I've gotten a good stare in he starts tugging my sleeve.

"Rich?"

I shake my head. "S-sorry."

Christine starts to pull me along as well. "Hey, c'mon... There's a good store not far from here?"

"Okay." I take one last peek over, but let them pull me away towards a new distraction. I wondered briefly about Kevin, the stockboy who sold SQUIPs there. We were synced when the whole Play-thing went down since I basically was just reselling his SQUIP supply. His -must've turned off too then, I figure.

...Maybe it's best not to think about it too much.

Jeremy and I follow Christine to some clothing outlet. Apparently she likes this store because they sell really comfortable stuff. I glance around for a moment, seeing this nice jacket. It's a dull orange, some kind of corduroy material I think, but I only knew that because My SQUIP hated corduroy. It looks like it'd be warm in the winter but also comfortable during spring. I'm about to look at the price tag when I catch my reflection in a mirror again... Not only my reflection but also another customer who's staring at me. I recognize the look, it's one of those ones that pierces into my gut and makes my body shake. They seem to realize I've caught them, because not a moment later they pretend to look at some shirts on display instead. My reflection glares at them-

"Hey! you find something you like?" Christine asks.

I break from my trance and glance back at the jacket. "Oh, um. No, not really." I mutter, dropping the coat.

She tilts her head. "You sure?"

"Yep." I rub my arm a little, then pull away when I'm met with pain.

Christine's concern seems to grow from that. "You okay?"

I nod frantically. "Yeah, I just um-" My voice lowers, "I keep forgetting I'm covered in- y'know?" 

"Oh... Yeah."

"It's okay if you don't know what to say, I wouldn't either..." 

She nods. "Well, I'm glad you wanted to join us today... I'm gonna go try these on, Jeremy's over there." She points him out, and walks off. She probably doesn't wanna be seen with me, anyway. But, maybe she isn't thinking that... I walk over slowly, and even though I'm pretty sure he hasn't noticed me I stay by Jeremy's side. In fact, I know he didn't- because he jumped a tiny bit when he finally looked over.

"Oh, hey... You good?"

"Fine," I mumble. He doesn't seem convinced.

"...Do you wanna go home? I can call dad..."

I take a breath. If I go home now, I just let everyone giving me bad stares and muttering about how I look like a freak win. "No."

He leans in a little closer. "They aren't winning. It isn't a contest to see who can make you uncomfortable the quickest."

I blink. "Huh-"

"You aren't obligated to put up with those voices telling you that everyone thinks your terrible. If leaving makes them quieter, then you don't have to stay." Jeremy gives me a look of empathy.

"How did you know I was...?"

Jeremy starts to explain, "I think the SQUIP syncing thing like... Had some weird residual effect when they shorted out? Sometimes I can tell vaguely hear people's thoughts? Christine I think gets it too, sometimes... You ever got anything like that?"

I shake my head. "No, but I haven't been around enough people to-" I pause. "Well, Michael brought it up once, in the hospital... I can't hear my deadname at all cause my SQUIP used to block it out. I think I might've tuned in with Christine for a bit back there but I haven't really been around people enough to know?"

Jeremy nods. "Maybe we can get you around the others some time."

I wasn't sure about that.

"If you want to, that is." He adds not soon after.

"...I'll think about it." I wasn't sure I could even handle seeing anyone else. Not right now, I needed more time before I could do that. Jeremy takes something off one of the racks and walks back toward the changing rooms to try out his lot. I wait on one of the chairs just outside, giving an occasional comment if he or Christine ask for one until they've picked out what they've wanted. Not long after, we're off to our next store.

And the next one...

_And the next one..._

I glance around at a few things in every shop we go into, but nothing quite catches my eye. There are tons of nice outfits, soft outfits, denim outfits, and expensive outfits; but I don't single out on anything. There are a few times when I think I like something, only I realize it's not something I like but something I'm _used_ to wearing- Something my SQUIP would like. I even join Jeremy and Christine in the girl's sections (He says he doesn't think clothing should be gendered, Christine called gender clothing as a whole "Cis Nonsense", and I felt like my head was freed a little from more SQUIP bullshit that I wasn't aware I had to work through)... No matter what I look at, nothing looks like... Well... Me. Not even in my reflection.

A bit later in the day, we get soft pretzels and sit down in the food court. Jeremy and Christine have a few bags between them... And I just have the clothes on my back. I eat for a little while, Until I realize that they're staring at me.

"...What?"

They don't say anything, but I can tell what they're thinking.

"...I know I haven't gotten anything yet, but you don't have to act weird about it."

They release their tension. "It's not that it's weird, Rich," Christine begins, "It's just... Well, You looked at a lot of stuff like you were thinking about buying them... Why didn't you?"

I take a sip of water and think about it. "... I don't know... I just- I felt like I didn't-" I pause, take a deep breath, and sigh, "I'm not sure what kind of clothes I like," I admit. "I had it in my head so long that I never had to... _Like_ anything? And I dunno _what_ I like anymore."

Jeremy reaches over a little. "Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of Rich. It took me a while to adjust back, too."

I shake my head. "That's the thing, I don't think I can go _back_. I don't know what I liked back then anymore, and I don't know what I like now."

Christine hums for a moment. "Well, what things do you not like?"

I think it odd at first, to ask that, but I think about it. "Muscle-tees, camo-print, uhh..." I think back to that outfit I wore a few nights ago. "...Anything that my SQUIP made me buy pretty much." There were some things I liked that It got for me, but I never really wanted to look at those types of clothes again.

Christine nods. "So, did you see anything today that your SQUIP wouldn't buy you? No matter what?"

I shrug. "Girls' clothes... Like, you're right gendered clothing is kinda bull. But, I didn't see anything I liked that much in those sections either."

Jeremy hums. "Okay... Anything else? At all?"

I mull over it for a moment. "...There was..." I stop. "Nevermind, it's stupid-"

"Hey, I'm sure it's not!" Christine encourages, "C'mon, we aren't gonna judge ya!" 

"...There was this Jacket... Y'know, the one you saw me looking at earlier?" I mumble. "But, I dunno how it'd look on me..."

Christine's eyes go wide. "Oh, the orange one?"

I nod. "Yeah..."

Jeremy stands up, throwing away his trash. "Well, why don't you take another look at it? What store was it in?"

I quietly lead them back to that outlet we had been in a few hours before. The jacket rack looks exactly the same. I quickly go through it, finding one that's around my size. "This was the one."

Jeremy smiles at me. "That's a nice one, why don't you go try it on and see what you think?" He gives me a little nudge towards the changing rooms. 

I look back. "...Are you guys gonna come, too?"

"We will if you want us, but it's your money," Jeremy says with a shrug.

Christine nods. "Yeah. Don't buy it just because we like it if you end up not."

I turn back around and walk into one of the changing stalls. Once inside; I take off Jeremy's hoodie, replace it with the orange jacket, and look over it in my reflection.

...It's _something._

...It's the exact look my SQUIP had me avoid. Nothing Eye-popping. No witty phrases printed on the back or celebrity brand name on the tag. It was just a bland coat.  
My reflection and I have a glaring contest for a bit... It's judging me intensely for dressing like this... I look so uninteresting in this coat...

I shut my eyes, just focusing on how it _feels_ instead of how it _looks._

It's soft on the inside, but not fluffy like a winter coat. The outside has that striped corduroy feel that I can really only describe as being that. It fits a little snug, but not to the point where it's restricting me. If I hated the shirt I was wearing, I could button it up easy, or If I liked it I could leave it open. The pocket space was nice, and the lining on the inside barely had any texture to it...

...It felt... Right... Somehow...

I pull it back off but hold it close to my body. And when I walk back to my friends I hand Jeremy his hoodie back. I just smile at him, and he and Christine seem to get the message. The cashier removes the tag and anti-theft button from it for me and I end up wearing it out of the store. I don't even ask for the receipt because, well, I'm definitely not returning this. The old Rich is dead, crucified in those flames, and this was a symbol of my rebirth. Sure, maybe this and a soft pretzel are the only things I bought today, but at least it was something I wanted... 

Yeah, I wanted this!

Jeremy texts his dad as he exits the store, then excuses himself to use the restroom. Christine and I wait just in the little hall separating the restrooms from the rest of the mall. We're initially a little quiet, but I start a conversation.

"Hey um... Thank you. Like, I'm pretty sure you invited Jeremy because you wanted to have the day alone with him, but I appreciate you letting me tag along."

Christine shrugs but keeps a smile. "It's no problem... I want to say I would've invited you anyways, but I didn't even know you were out of the hospital."

I shrugged. "No one did, 'cept Jeremy... And Michael but that's a long story I don't wanna get into." I didn't even mention not having a Phone.

"Alright... Um, Could I ask something kind of intrusive?"

I look at her for a moment, thinking over it. "...I suppose. But I can't guarantee I'll answer it."

"...Are you going to talk to the others?"

I feel my stomach twist a little, and take a deep breath. "I don't know. Eventually, I should, but I just think that going back to school might be easier on me if no one even notices I've slipped back in."

Christine nods. "That makes sense... Um, I'm sorry, about what happened on Halloween."

I shrug. "There wasn't anything you could've done."

"I... I don't think I believe that. I could've not laughed at you when you obviously needed help. I could've tried more. And, I know it's not my fault but I also know that If I'd done something different I might've been able to help."

It was true, of course. But, it was said and done. We couldn't change it now. "Well, thanks for bringing that stuff for me in the hospital that one day. That made everything a little easier to deal with," I twiddle with my thumbs a little, "So um... How's the theatre department doing?"

Christine takes a deep breath, makes a squeezing motion with her hands, and huffs. "Mr. Reyes is fighting tooth and nail to keep it going... Since the investigation into the 'Ecstacy trip' was inconclusive they can't technically hold any of the students accountable for it, but the whole curriculum was already on the chopping block to start with. But, we made a lot of money opening night too, enough to justify us staying. I think his current pitch is for anyone who gets involved to help out with a fundraiser for the spring production to make it less of a financial burden on the school."

"Oh..." I bite my lip. I knew it was going to be bad, but that really must've sucked. "I'm sorry... I know theatre means a lot to you, and I hope you guys figure out a way to keep it going."

She tilts her head. "Are you gonna join again?"

I shrug. "I dunno. I'm kinda trying to figure myself out. If I do I think I'll stick to stage crew. Y'know, lay low..."

"Right, right. Well, if laying low ever get's lonely, feel free to sit with us at lunch sometime."

Those words made me feel a little better. "I think I will. Thanks."

The nice moment we share doesn't last long. My head snaps back towards the restroom... Jeremy hasn't come out yet, but he probably should've been done by now.

"...I think something is wrong." Christine mumbles.

"I feel it too."

We run into the men's room, which somehow is completely vacant except for Jeremy and this other guy who has him pinned into the wall.

"I told you it was off!"

"How do I know? I do I fucking know it's gone?"

Christine reacts before I do, shoving the guy to the ground and pulling Jeremy back towards us. She yanks my sleeve, trying to get us out of there. But, I'm frozen in place. I look at the older gentleman.

"...Kevin?"

Kevin lifts his head, He looks up at me. "Oh... It's you... You're that kid who worked with me over the summer." He's breathing rapidly. I kneel down.

"Yeah, that's right... It's me..."

"You have a SQUIP."

"That's right, I did. It's gone now... Yours should be too, we were synced to each other... remember? Because you were my supplier?"

"How- How though?"

He's genuinely confused and almost looks like he's going to cry. I bet seeing Jeremy triggered some panic response. I _had_ sent Jeremy to Payless to get his SQUIP, so Kevin might've recognized him at least a little. I take a moment to explain the situation with the mountain dew red and the school play and how I was in the hospital for nearly 2 months. It was a little weird, comforting this 25-year-old in a public restroom, but... We had similar trauma. I felt like I couldn't just leave him there. Plus, We'd probably never see each other again after today, so it almost didn't matter.

He calms down a little after I finish, leaning into the wall. "So... It's not coming back?"

I shake my head. "No, it's gone for good... I think. Do you know if drinking regular mountain dew again would turn it back on?"

"I didn't even know you could turn it off." He mumbles.

"Right... Well, I think you should go home, Kevin. You seem like you've had a rough day."

He laughs. "Yeah I mean, I just got fired and now I got all the wrong people on my tail so... It has been rough." He looks at his feet for a moment. "Hey, I gave you like 500 of those things, and you sold /way less than that based on what you reimbursed. What happened to those ones?"

I pause. I look at Jeremy and Christine, hoping they have an answer, but I'm just met with the same mortified expression. Thankfully, Kevin seems good at reading a room.

"Oh, dang... You don't know do you?" He paces around, clearly uncomfortable, "Um... Okay. Look, you're kids... The guys I was getting SQUIPs from are shady as hell and obviously they aren't against having these be sold to children, but considering how small the amount I gave you in comparison to what I had stocked was I think they'll cut their losses. If anyone's in trouble it's me. That said, you might wanna find those things before they get into bad hands..."

Jeremy nods. "Uh yeah... We'll do that once we get back to school."

Kevin stands back up. "Sorry about almost killing you, by the way. I'm gonna just..." He leaves without even finishing his sentence. We're quiet for a bit. The loudest thing in the room is the brightly colored sharpie graffiti on the stalls and dumb cultist stickers prophesizing the apocalypse that we will never live to see. We can't do anything but take deep breaths and stare at each other for the time being, until Jeremy's phone buzzes and he checks what is definitely a text message.

"Uh, My dad's outside the front. We should probably get out of here yeah?"

"Yeah, We can talk about this later," Christine agrees, "When we're more level headed."

I nod quietly, not adding anything because they pretty much summed it up. The thought that there were just SQUIPs out there in the world waiting for someone to make the same mistake I did and start the whole cycle over again just sickened me. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to live with myself without seeing those things get destroyed. I burned down a house just to get rid of a couple, I needed to make sure no one had to go to my lengths to destroy them. There were more out in the world than just the ones that were at school, too many for a traumatized teen to address, but at least I could do something about those.

The sight of Mr. Heere's car in the parking lot makes me briefly forget my anxieties. I end up getting shotgun because Jeremy wants to sit with Christine (and who am I to deny him that?) I just spend the ride gazing out the window as Mr. Heere played his music from the stereo. The slush on the ground had only been slightly melted by the sun's presence today, and I knew by the time sunset rolled around it wouldn't stay that way. I wouldn't even be surprised if another snowstorm rolled in tonight and covered it all in a fresh clean layer, leaving only slight remnants of the murky ice beneath it. I thought back briefly to all those long car rides me and Steven used to take. The destination was always different, but they made for nice excuses to leave the house and not deal with Dad that day. 

We drop off Christine midway to the house. Jeremy walked her to the door, like the gentleman he was. And, while that went on, Mr. Heere leaned over to me.

"Can I assume you're staying tonight, too?" He asks.

I nod. "Yeah, I was planning on it..."

He taps the steering wheel for a bit. "You don't have to go home, you know... I work for a law firm, I can't take it myself and I'd need more information on the situation to know if there's a case to be made but if there is..."

I think over it for a moment. As much as I don't want to go home, I'm also a little afraid of what will happen if I don't. "...I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Heere. But, For all the shit my Dad pulls he worried enough to report me as missing when I didn't come home after Halloween. Jersey's 72 hours, right? I don't want you guys getting caught up in that during Hannukah... Hell, I don't really think I could handle this right now."

Mr. Heere seems upset by this answer. "It is 72 hours, you're right. But if we beat him and report you as being in an abusive home-"

"Look, I appreciate what you're doing for me, I really do. And, I promise, the _next time_ this happens you can report it. But, I don't even remember what happened this time, so I can't really give a good account of _that_ if someone asked me for a report. And I don't exactly have evidence."

He shakes his head. "I work in a different department, But I'm sure there's something they can do about that."

"Maybe there is. I'm not asking you to do _nothing_ , I'm just asking for you to wait a little while before you rush into this. For both our sakes."

He's quiet, but nods. "Alright. I'm sorry I can't do more right now, kiddo."

I shrug. "It's fine. You're already doing a lot."

Mr. Heere huffs. "I'm really not, but as long as your safe for now..."

I think over everything for a moment. "Yeah... I'm safe now. And I think It'll be safe tomorrow for me to go home."

Mr. Heere slouches back into his chair. "If you think that, then alright. But, like you said: The moment something like his happens again I'm going to report it."

Jeremy starts walking back over, and we decide this is a good spot to end the conversation. I glance into the window and catch my reflection staring back at me again. He seems happier than I am, content with his fantasy world. Content without a reflected version of Mr. Heere or Jeremy to keep him company. Content to just wander alone along the highway and not take any exits or turnpikes to get out of Red Bank. Content not caring about a thing in the real world, where I was trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Comments are greatly appreciated and encouraged :)


	6. Walking Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I need to apologize  
> Sometimes I need to admit that I ain't right  
> Sometimes I should just keep my mouth shut  
> Or only say hello  
> Sometimes I still feel I'm walking alone
> 
> \---
> 
> Rich finally returns to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, Mentions/Discussions of abuse, discussions of transphobic family members
> 
> As always if you enjoy this chapter, leave a comment! There's one more chapter left in this act, so I'd really appreciate it!

[ _Walk on eggshells on my old stomping ground_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMjC3iaF8Kk)  
[ _Yet there's really no one left, that's hanging around_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMjC3iaF8Kk)  
[ _Isn't that another familiar face_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMjC3iaF8Kk)  
[ _Too drunk to figure out they're fading away?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMjC3iaF8Kk)

My current choice of song describes my current morning all too well... It's the first day back at school, The first day of the rest of my life, the first day of me living in constant fear. The worn but still functioning pair of headphones Jeremy had gifted me was really the only source of comfort I had right now. I also found myself understanding why Michael wore his so much. I could block out the rest of the world until homeroom came along and I had to at least start paying attention, or until the batteries in Steven's CD player ran out. I pull my jacket a little closer to my body, letting it offer its warmth. It fit just as nice as the day I bought it, though I suppose that wasn't really all that long ago. I guess I was just surprised it hadn't been ruined in some accident yet.

I keep a close eye out for ice and stray cars, even as I'm making the final few turns towards the school. It doesn't kill to be too cautious, especially when it's so dark and cold out. I didn't have to leave as early as I did, but I wanted to. If I got there earlier, before everyone else showed up, I could figure out how to hide better... Once I'm in the actual building my guard stays up. The hoodie I'm wearing under my other jacket covers my face from any early morning glares from the other few kids who were as crazy as I was. I pass my locker, giving it a quick glance. There are a few nice notes taped onto the door... But they've been defaced by less kind words. I don't need to make a stop anyway. I just need to go around to my other classrooms real quick and drop off the work I managed to finish over break...

I was still behind, but I was a little hopeful that I'd be able to have it finished out by the end of the month if I managed my time.

A few of my teachers aren't in yet, but the ones who _are_ accept my work pretty quietly... I assume they understood I didn't want to be the center of attention anytime soon, based on the looks they gave me as I walked in and left. I wasn't sure if I should be relieved they didn't think I was insane or insulted that they were pitying me. However, once I got as many work out as I could, I faced a new predicament: Where to go next... I could head into the Library, that's what I used to do Freshman year. I could probably do a little work. But, there were usually other kids there. Freshman year Rich could hide and hide well, junior year Rich was going to have more trouble with that. I didn't want to be anywhere where I could have even a slim chance of being recognized. I couldn't hang around the halls either, that was the same problem with a larger crowd... I get so caught up in walking that by the time I look up from my thoughts I'm outside Mr. Reyes' homeroom.

I peek inside. The door is wide open, no other students are inside, and Mr. Reyes is behind his desk watching a hot pocket cook in his microwave. I take a seat by his desk, looking out of his fake-window poster (which is still displaying a springtime view) and just kind of slouching. For a while, He doesn't even seem to notice me, content nursing some tea and waiting for his hot pocket to cool down. And, when He does, He just kind of stares.

"...Can I help you?" Mr. Reyes asks.

I shrug. "Probably not."

He peers for a moment. "...Richard?"

"Look, I just wanted somewhere quiet to hang out and We have homeroom today anyway so it's just two birds at this point," I mumble, rubbing my eyes. I felt tired still, I didn't want to really come today but I didn't feel much like staying home either. At least if I'm here I'll get a warm meal for cheap, but that was my only real excuse to be here.

Mr. Reyes backs down a little. "It's not that, I'm just surprised you're back already. They let you out this soon?"

I yawn. "Over the break, actually, yeah. I was healing well and my joints were all fine after a little PT, so they just told me to take it easy and rub in some ointment every few nights."

He gives me a look, almost like he reads me too well. "...Do you want some black tea? You sound like you need a little caffeine boost."

"Are you allowed to give students food?"

"Technically? No. But you look like you haven't eaten much and I doubt you'll last until your lunch period."

Something about him was a little different. He seemed less, well, grumpy. I'd almost call him mellow. Though, perhaps the change in demeanor was because he was tired. I pause for a moment and take him up on his offer. He pulls out an unused mug (identical to the one already in his hands), quickly steeps a bag of Earl Grey, and passes it over. I hold it in my hands for the time being, letting them warm up. 

"I presume you heard about the ecstasy incident. You kids and your social media and whatnot, right?"

I nod. "Yeah. I'm sorry about what happened."

"It wasn't anyone's fault, how could we have known someone was going to drug the vial?" 

"Yeah." I would've known. In fact, If I hadn't set that fire I probably would've been the one in Jeremy's shoes that night.

I look at Mr. Reyes again, thinking back to something my SQUIP told me. _He thinks watching others succeed where he's obviously failed will make him happy._ He poured a lot into that production, and he got caught in the crossfire of a failed SQUIP invasion. Now I got why he was mellow... He was upset. He felt like he failed everyone who was excited about the production and, to that extent, himself.

"Still, it sucks right? That was like, the only part of your job you enjoyed." I mumble. I'm not sure what I'm expecting. Obviously he's an adult. He doesn't need my condolences. But, I can't help offering them.

Mr. Reyes just nods. "...Yeah, it was- _is_. But, things aren't completely hopeless yet. The school board said if the club funds the production completely on its own then we can put on another show, so now it's just a matter of figuring out the logistics."

I wondered briefly if He had gotten SQUIP'd too. I never learned anything about that for sure, maybe I could ask Jeremy later. But, for now, I let the conversation fade. I see my reflection in the browned water for a moment. It doesn't seem to like Mr. Reyes, or any other adults, from what I can tell. I wasn't sure how _I_ felt about him yet, so I took it as a reason to be cautious.

But the two of us just sip our mugs and are able to enjoy a bit of quiet before the bell rings that morning. And, honestly, I think I needed some quiet. 

* * *

So far, I managed to go relatively undetected in class.

Relatively meaning no one was giving me any hell for just existing. I hadn't spoken a word. I hadn't made a noise. I hadn't made eye-contact with a single person. It was... Well, lonely. Like freshman year Rich had been. I guess now I could be grateful for it, a little. At least if I was lonely it meant other kids weren't hurting me. I wasn't really paying attention to time. Homeroom melted into Math melted into English melted into Creative Writing, and the shallow promise of lunch was just around the corner. I tried my best to pay attention, but the more I try to focus the more I end up so focused on focusing that I couldn't focus.

...I wasn't even sure if that made sense.

I stay in my state of unfocused focusing until the bell rings and I realized I hadn't really been paying attention to Iago planning out his hate crime or... whatever Othello was about. We just started it today but from what I had managed to pay attention to I was pretty sure that was the gist of it. I dropped off some work that I hadn't been able to this morning and once a decent Rich-sized hole formed in the crowd I slipped out, following the lunch stampede all the way to the cafeteria. I'm a little nervous, being so packed together, but thankfully no one says anything. 

I let my guard lower a little, but my hood stays up. No one had noticed or recognized me all day, but the moment someone saw the streak of red in my head it was all over. Maybe I shouldn't have dyed it again. Maybe I should've just let it fade away until It could be cut off. But... It was basically the only thing I could control right now. It was the only thing that I could keep constant. I wasn't ready to part with it yet. Besides, even if I didn't everyone would just notice the bandages and burn scars and figure it out on their own. All this did was make it easier.

Though, that boosted my confidence a little. It was so easy, and not a single person had noticed. Maybe they didn't actually care as much as I thought they would. But, I still did, so I was going to keep in my comfortable little hole for the time being. I forgo getting a tray at lunch, instead just grabbing a box of mystery meat and some salad bar objects. I almost get milk, but I can recall an old tip my SQUIP gave me: Never trust the milk they serve after a break. And while I _shouldn't_ listen to anything it told me, I was inclined to believe this one for good reason. 

I was faced with a new problem once I had actually gotten my lunch... Finding a place to sit. I almost considered leaving, until I remembered Jeremy probably wouldn't mind me sitting near him. I walk for a little bit, scouting around until I see him sitting at a table next to Christine and Michael...

And Jenna...

And Brooke...

And Chloe...

And _Jake..._

...Right, the syncing thing. They all got SQUIPs during the play. They probably aren't even really mad at each other, or if they are they're pretending not to be because when Jake sits somewhere the others just kinda pile in. Hell, they probably still think they did ecstasy. I trusted Jeremy, but I know the people sitting with him didn't necessarily trust me. And, well, I didn't want to make them uncomfortable. If I went over there no one would be comfortable, not even myself. I turn, thinking maybe I can eat out in the hall-

An elbow hits my face. I drop my lunch and land a little too hard on my ass. My food splatters onto the other guy's shoes, and he's not very happy about that.

"Yo! What the fuck, shorty?"

I bite my lip, trying to say "Sorry," But constantly tripping over my lisp as I do. I try to stand up, but before I get the chance to do anything on my own accord I'm roughly yanked by the back of my collar and help up so I'm nearly off my feet. My burns scream at me, rubbing uncomfortably against the seams, but I manage to stifle back any noises of pain.

The guy looks like he's about to start yelling. But, he stops.

"...No way."

Oh no...

"No fucking way."

Please, not now-

The guy erupts into laughter, my hood is shoved off of my head and my arms desperately try to cover myself. But, by then the damage is done.

"Hey everyone! The arsonist is back!"

I shut my eyes, not willing to see their stares. But it can't save me from the murmurs, the displeasured groans, and all the gross phrases shot my way. I can't breathe like this, any attempt I make feels suffocating. I try to pull the taller guy off of me but his grip just tightens.

"You gonna try and run again, bastard?"

I keep struggling, my chest getting tighter and tighter until I can't stop myself from punching him in the face. I immediately regret it, my hand stings and I can tell my bandage came loose from the impact. I'm not even sure how hard I hit him, I couldn't feel it. I stood there for a moment and promptly fled when I realized everyone had been staring that whole time. I didn't even really register the whole thing. One moment I was standing and the next I was running and before I knew it I was outside in the courtyard that no one used in the winter. I was pretty sure I fell again, slipped on some ice, because I was on the ground. Or maybe I curled up there. I couldn't remember. I just... stayed there. I see my reflection, warped in the ice. My shaking body makes it look like it's laughing. I probably would have for the rest of the day, being honest, if the door hadn't opened behind me. I curl up, thinking whoever is there was going to start attacking me again.

"Rich?"

... Jeremy.

It's Jeremy...

I trust Jeremy...

I try to push myself up, and when I can't quite get there he grabs my sleeve and pulls me off of the patch of ice that I had made my 'lay down and hyperventilate' spot. But, I can't stand. My legs go shakey and he just pulls me over his arm and guides me back towards the door. I take a few deep breaths.

"I don't wanna go inside," I mumble.

"We won't," He promises, "I'm just moving you somewhere dry. Keep breathing, buddy."

...Buddy?

That was new.

I wasn't sure if I deserved it.

Once we get just outside the door, he sits both of us down.

"This okay?"

"Yeah." I whimper.

He bites his lip. "I um, I didn't see everything but... That was fucked up."

I curl up. "I didn't mean to punch him, I couldn't breathe and I panicked and-"

"Woah, Rich... Hey." He pats me a few times, very gently, "You know I'm talking about the other guy, right?"

I blink. "Huh?"

"Dude he literally lifted you up off your feet! Did you think I was talking about you?" He sounds hurt.

"No- I mean, yeah I mean..." I cover my head with my arms. "Why wouldn't you be? I'm the freak arsonist-"

"Rich don't say that-"

"Why shouldn't I?" I snap, "Everyone is thinking it, you saw how they looked at me!" 

Jeremy moves in front of me. "Yeah, but I'm the only one looking right now! And you're not a freak! Or an arsonist! You're just... You, Rich."

I take a few more breaths, in 4 hold 7 out 8, and slouch against the door. "...I'm kind of an arsonist," I mumble.

Jeremy frowns. "You didn't have a choice."

"They'll never know that."

He pauses for a moment like he isn't sure what to do... Then he opens both of his arms. I think about it, and back away a little. I appreciated the offer, I really did, but I felt like if someone hugged me right now it'd just be worse. He doesn't seem offended, or at least not too much, and instead just stays right where he is.

Jeremy sighs. "...I didn't know you were here today."

I huff. "...Good. It means it was working."

"What was?"

"Hiding."

I can feel Jeremy's unease. "Why were you hiding from me? You wanted me to keep an eye on you, right?"

I tense. "I did- I still do but... Um, It was mostly from other kids and um..." What was I supposed to say? I didn't want you sitting with Jake and the others? That was controlling as fuck. That was something my SQUIP would tell me to say. I didn't have a problem with Jeremy sitting with them, I just had a problem with sitting with them when they all probably hated me-

"Who hates you?" He mumbles, probably not even realizing he's in my head. Right, the syncing thing. I shake my head a little.

"...I don't know how to say this without sounding like a total jackass."

Jeremy nods. "Okay. Um, did I do something that made you not want to be around me?"

"Ye-no... Um... Kind of..." I curl up.

Jeremy nods. "Okay uhh-Oh! Therapy language: When I did _this_ , it made you feel _this_... Okay?"

I think for a moment. "When you were um, sitting with Jake... It made me feel like I wasn't... allowed to be included."

Jeremy's eyes go big, and he looks like he's mentally hitting himself in the face. "Fuck- Rich I'm sorry..."

I shrug. "You didn't know I was here, I can't exactly text you, how could you have known?" I don't want him beating himself up too hard over it, but he sits a little straighter.

"No," He takes a breath, "I made a promise, that I'd be there for you, and If I hadn't noticed you all day at all then that means I wasn't keeping it well. Even if you were trying on purpose to not be seen, I still should've been _looking_ for you. I'm sorry." He leans back. "I'm gonna make this right, okay? I'm gonna figure this out."

I look down for a moment. "...Do they know about the SQUIPs?"

Jeremy shakes his head. "No, they still think it was a bad drug trip. I've been thinking about telling them, but They sort of needed time to work through a lot of their own shit, and I figured this was a conversation you needed to be part of."

I take a breath. I wanted to make things right, too... I had a lot I lied to them about, including the SQUIP, and I still felt like I was lying by just being quiet. "Let's... Not today, but... Fuck what day is it again?"

"Wednesday. Um... We were talking about maybe meeting up Saturday? Otherwise, I don't know when the next time everyone gets a day off is." Of course, Jeremy had that advantage. He knew what they'd been up to, and how they'd been handling things.

I take a deep breath. "Alright... Plus, we should probably warn them about those rogue SQUIPs, so they can protect themselves." I had a feeling that even if they weren't mad, they wouldn't exactly be thrilled to help look for those things.

"That's not something we can make them do," Jeremy mumbles, somewhat absentmindedly.

"You're in my head again," I mumble.

"Oh, sorry." He scoots a bit closer, "I um... I swear it's not on purpose? I'm trying to figure it out still."

"Yeah, I get it..." I lean in a little, and almost feel too close for comfort, "Hey um. You ever see things still? Like, you think it's there one moment but it's gone the next."

Jeremy huffs. "All the Damn Time. I hate it."

I nod. "Yeah... I think I have been, too." 

"...I accidentally gave myself a static shock the other day," Jeremy begins, "I had a panic attack because I thought for sure I accidentally turned it on... My dad had to call Michael over to help me calm down again."

I pick a little at my coat. "... Sometimes my reflection moves on its own accord." I admit, "I'm not sure if it's me or my SQUIP or... whatever."

He looks at me. "Guess we're both a little fucked up, huh?"

I sigh. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Least we got each other now... Right?"

I nod. "Yeah, This... This is better than just kind of thinking about it alone in bed." I could actually trust Jeremy enough to talk about this kind of stuff... I couldn't even say that about Steven before I got my SQUIP.

"Who?"

I blink. "Dude, you gotta warn me when you do that."

Jeremy cringes. "Sorry!"

"Whatever, we'll figure out this phantom bull eventually."

Jeremy shifts. "Um, so... Who's Steven? If you don't mind?"

I mull about it for a moment. "Steven's... My older brother."

"Did something happen to him?"

"I sort of... When I first got _it,_ it said I should distance myself from him because he'd deadname me in front of my school-friends and because he's kinda phobic and wouldn't accept me. Which like I don't _want_ to believe it but I've seen Steven act that way so like... It wasn't exactly wrong about that."

Jeremy grimaces. "Oh..."

"Yeah, but... He sort of took care of me after Mom died and Dad went spiraling, and He's still _my Brother_ , y'know?" I let out a huff, "I said some shit to him before Jake's party on Halloween, and like I meant _some_ of it but other shit I brought up... I'm not sure how much of it was me and how much of it was just that thing gaslighting him. And Like, part of me wants to find him and apologize and give him another chance... But the other part is scared as fuck because I don't think he'll want a transgender brother."

Jeremy frowns. "...I don't know what you two were like... But if he won't accept you then you don't owe him anything. Like, yeah it sucks you two had to go through that at such a young age, but that doesn't give him a free pass to dictate your identity. Only you get to make those calls; not your brother, not your dad, and if your mom were still around she couldn't either."

I took a deep breath and tried to let these words settle... I got the feeling Jeremy had some bad blood in his family, too. "You wanna talk about something? Only fair since you listened to me."

He thinks. "Well um... I was kind of in your boat at one point. My mom wasn't like, the best. I'm not sure if she ever actually cheated on my Dad, but she kind of like... Danced around the thought? She'd make comments I never really understood until years later. And um... She didn't really take it too well when I came out."

I take a sharp breath. "Oh, I'm sorry about that..."

He shrugs. "Eh... I kept kind of, wanting her approval? Even after she left... I'd never got that from her, ever, and I thought if I did It'd finally make me feel like I wasn't a failure? I always thought the divorce was partially _my_ fault because my Dad took my side. And like, he slacked off for a while. He got really depressed afterward and kind of stopped parenting me. But, he's trying again? And he bettered himself... And my mom can't even be fucking bothered to pay for child support or take duel-custody, hell before all of this she wouldn't even say my name. The most I've heard from her the last few years is an occasional birthday card in the mail."

My hands fold over my stomach. "...How did you stop? Like, needing that approval?"

He shrugged. "Well... After the SQUIP, I made a vow to myself that I was only going to listen to my own voice from now on. And that's been really uphill, but... Between that, my Dad and Michael both being more mindful of my needs, and getting support in other ways... I've just not really wanted it anymore? Like, I'm doing pretty great right now and I don't there's anything she could give me that I can't live without."

I nod. "I think I might still need closure on him, but I'd like that... I'd like to have that kind of confidence in myself, know who I am and what I need."

Jeremy nods. "I get that. Like, I know it's different for you, but I don't think anyone our age really knows who they are. Hell, there's shit I don't even know about me."

I sigh, staying silent for a moment. I try to think about it. "...I know I'm a boy, and I know I'm Bi. Those are the only things I feel certain of though."

Jeremy looks up at me. "Well, hey. You got those if nothing else for now. Lots of kids our age usually figure that out last."

I smile. "Yeah, I guess I do get that for now. It's not a whole personality, but it's an aspect of it right?"

"Yup, and it's an aspect of it that you can connect to other people with." He reaches down, patting the top of my head. I let him and snort, reaching over and petting his hair in return. He seems surprised, but not unpleasantly so. 

The bell rings, and I grimace a little. "I don't wanna go to class anymore. I didn't even get to eat."

"I'm sorry... I'll walk you, okay? They won't fuck with you if I'm around, I think." Jeremy helps me to my feet. Or, he tries to. I pull back instantly, clutching my hand. I now notice the bandages look a little more stained than before, and grip them tightly.

"I think I reopened something," I mumble.

Jeremy looks down. "Yeah, uh, it wasn't just there-" He points to a stain on my jeans, "I guess I'm walking you to the nurse then? You seem like you probably needed to go there anyway."

I huff. "Okay... Could I come over after school? For like, homework?"

He nods. "Of course. You don't have to ask me, buddy. You know what Michael's cruiser looks like, right? I'll let him know you're tagging along." His arm settles back over my shoulders, and I lean into it... It's almost perfectly Rich-shaped at that moment, and it helps me briefly forget that my entire right side of my body is in pain.

* * *

The nurse could only really give me replacement bandages and ask me if I wanted to be sent home. I refuted the latter offer and just asked if I could stay for the next period. They let me, but I had to go back to my class afterward. I laid back on one of the beds for a bit, trying to calm down again... But, I was so focused on calming down that I never got around to it and by the time the bell rang I felt just as high-strung as before.

I keep my hood up again, not daring to eye any of my classmates as I walk. I was sure a good number of them recognized me from that scene in the cafeteria, but I kept telling myself I was invisible until I could finally take a seat and just hunch over my desk. I play with one of my orange sleeves for the few moments I have before the bell rang. Unfortunately for me, I had Mr. Gretch this Period. He _always_ took attendance verbally and he _always_ expected you to reply verbally. He started going down the rows.

"Carlisle?"

"Here."

"Jackson?"

"Here."

"Marks?"

"Yo."

I waited, shaking in my seat.

"Kropp?"

"Here."

"Rolan?"

"Here."

Jenna was in this class?

"Goranski?"

I almost don't notice it.

"Richard Goranski?"

I do that time. I take a deep breath.

"Here."

That one action has sealed my fate. If anyone was suspicious before, they'd know now. Jenna would probably have it all over the school by 6th.

My brief vacation from school bullshit and rumors and bullies was officially over.


	7. Reject

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rich finally talks to his former friends about Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Chapter contains a very emotional Confrontation, discussion of trauma, and mentions of abuse.

[ _So when the smoke clears, here I am_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fW3p1e26an0)  
[ _Your reject all-American_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fW3p1e26an0)  
[ _Sucking up you social sect, making you a nervous wreck_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fW3p1e26an0)  
[ _To hell and back and hell again I've gone_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fW3p1e26an0)

[ _..._ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fW3p1e26an0)

[ _So when the smoke clears, here I am_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fW3p1e26an0)  
[ _Your reject all-American_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fW3p1e26an0)  
[ _Sucking up you social sect, making you a nervous wreck_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fW3p1e26an0)  
[ _To hell and back and hell again I've gone_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fW3p1e26an0)

[ _..._ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fW3p1e26an0)

I keep repeating this one stanza, over and over again on the CD player, letting it making a nice little place for itself in my mind. I'm not sure _what_ about it sticks out to me, but I find myself enjoying it more than I intend to... In case you aren't versed in Green Day, I've been listening to _Nimrod_. It was kind of killing me to see the wrong CD in its case, that was the only reason. But, I found myself enjoying the music on _Nimrod_ quite a lot, so maybe it was a good decision. I also figured out pretty quickly that there was a slight problem with the CD player I hadn't noticed before... It was stuck on shuffle mode. I tried jiggling the button, but it wouldn't input anything. But, I did realize that if the player turned off on a specific song, it always replayed that song when it was turned on again... So, I developed a new method for listening to the songs: I'd play that one song on repeat for a week, then let it switch to the next song and listen to that. If it's a song I already heard I just let it play out until I got to a new one.

I've only gotten through 2 songs, but I think I prefer this method to just listening straight through. Given what I picked up about _American Idiot from_ its booklet though I'm not sure how that's going to work for that one. I listened to one song, following along the lyrics, and it read like there was some kind of plot going on and it was important to listen in the right order. But, I figured considering my method is extremely convoluted by the time I get to that bridge I'll have fixed the damn thing. 

Of course, these issues are trivial in the highest sense of the word.

I could just listen to them _online_ and negate the player altogether... But, something about that felt wrong. Steven bought them to be listened to, and he's not around to do it so in my mind I gotta pick up the slack. I wasn't sure why I felt like I had to. Jeremy told me before that I wasn't obligated to let Steven control my life, whether he was here or not... But, there's that damn hopeful part in my mind that wants him to be an accepting person. That wants him to open his arms and be happy I took care of his disks...

Then again, they're **CDs**. I don't think they have feelings. Technology doesn't feel anything. It's just programmed to serve a human.

...Until it programs the human to serve them.

I curl up in my blankets, letting the song finish out and turning the player off just before it switches. It was really late, I wasn't doing any homework or anything so I should probably just sleep. At least then I have an excuse for doing nothing. I grab Todd out of the crevice between my mattress and the wall, ignoring the brief pains from my bandages stretching a little to tightly, and as soon as it's possible my body curls around him. It's a childish comfort, but it's one I'm fine indulging in. I think back to a few late nights I had spent in Steven's room. He'd wrap me up in blankets, and keep his arms around me... I'd almost forget about the fact that Dad was usually outside the door, drunk and in a bad mood. Like he is now.

...But, those memories are out of my head by the time I drift off.

* * *

_"Oh... God, ------- I didn't- I'm Sor- I swear I-"_

_**Don't dwell on it, Richard.** _

_"Wait, Jake, Please-"_

_"Rich! Stop being such a freak, man! Go, Chill out or something..."_

_"Do you have any Mountain Dew? The Red kind?"_

_"Hey! This whole no drinking while SQUIPing thing, would it have killed you to give me a warning?"_

_**Do you really think these people will accept you without me telling them to?** _

_"I-I can't get rid of you... But, I won't let you get inside of anyone else!"_

_**Amazing, how we're both willing to die for our causes when they oppose each other isn't it?... A Loser, even in death. Such a waste...** _

* * *

I startle awake, my heart is beating so hard it feels like it's going to break through my ribs...

It hurts to breathe...

I try to roll onto my back but my body can't will itself...

I look down in my arms, and Todd looks back up at me...

I manage to get my hands to pet some of the fluff poking out of his nurse's uniform...

I feel tears pricking at my eyes, and a bit of the flannel shirt I fell asleep in, but not much else...

It's too quiet to hear much of anything, maybe if I listen hard enough I can make out the fridge down the hall...

I can smell my own B.O., I forgot to take a bath last night...

Fuck.

My senses slowly start easing their way back, and my breathing eventually steadies out again. I hold Todd tightly to my chest because, well, I needed to squeeze something to remain even remotely calm in this situation... I manage to tilt my head a little and catch the time on my alarm clock... 7:30. Not too terribly early, but I would've liked to sleep in. So, I just stay curled up on the mattress for a few more minutes, nestling my teddy bear tightly under my chin. I only finally get up when my stomach starts to bite at me for not eating yet. I carefully put Todd back in his crevice and brave out into the hallways to see if there's any damage.

...My dad is still passed out on the couch, but he might wake up soon. I check a few cabinets, being as quiet as I can. But, it looks like the guy forgot to stock up on food. Great. I walk back to my room and grab some cash from a small stash. I'm not buying groceries, but I'll get myself a quick breakfast or something before I go over to Jeremy's today... Or, maybe they haven't eaten yet. I felt bad going over and just asking for food but, Mr. Heere would probably pay me back for buying myself breakfast anyway. I mull over it as I grab my school bag. I had different reasons for going over, of course; but at this point, I needed some food and it'd take less time to just go straight to their house.

I pack Todd, my ointment, and an extra set of clothes as well; just in case. I don't think I'll be needing them, I get the feeling both me and Jeremy won't be up for a sleepover, but who knows. Once I got all of that settled, I sneak out through the window. I don't leave a note or anything, not that my Dad would care enough to notice I was gone. I'm a little grateful that the Heere's live within walking distance, especially today. My burns were kind of giving me a hard time... Right, I didn't bathe last night, I needed to change out my bandages. Who knew 3rd- and 4th-degree burns took so long to heal? I was in the hospital for a month and a half, and weeks after that I'm still dealing with them. It's fucking insane.

As I approach, I notice Mr. Heere in the kitchen making some breakfast. I don't see Jeremy around, but I knock on the door anyway. He seems a little surprised but lets me in... He's very quiet. He isn't talking at all. He does some hand gestures for a moment, but when it's clear that isn't working he grabs a clipboard... Non-Verbal? That was a thing Jeremy had brought up. I'm guessing that's what's going on. He hands it over to me.

_Hello Rich! I'm not in much of a talking mood right now, but are you okay? Have you eaten yet? You can answer aloud if you'd like._

I look back up at him. "I'm alright. Um, Jeremy told you about that thing today right?"

He nods, then after a brief quiet points to the second question again.

"Oh, Uh... No, I haven't." I admit. Mr. Heere nods and takes the clipboard back. He's already got some waffle's and hashbrowns made out, and gestures over for me to dish up. Well, if nothing else, I'm getting a decent meal out of being here today. I set my bag down beside my chair and eat happily. Jeremy walks down a bit later, looking surprised.

"Oh! Rich! I thought you'd be over a bit later."

I shrug. "Didn't really have much else to do today, I thought maybe we could do some homework or something to pass time?"

Jeremy thinks about it. "Yeah, okay. Let me eat first and let my head wake up." He promptly makes his way to the food, plating himself a couple of waffles and a nice amount of hash. He makes a small gesture to his dad, who gestures back... I think it might be some form of Sign-Language. But, I don't know any sign, so I wouldn't know.

Jeremy lets me up to his room after we finish eating, and stays in his pajamas as we work. It's a nice little distraction if nothing else. We kind of end up talking more than we do working, though. Which actually ends up being a little enlightening to me.

"So like, He talks sometimes and doesn't others?"

Jeremy hums. "Kinda? It's more of a stress-response thing. He wasn't verbal last night, either, I think he had a tough day at work, but he didn't wanna discuss it. He looked like he was having some Shutdown symptoms too, so I just let him be."

"Shutdown?"

Jeremy blinks, realizing I'm not familiar with the term. "Oh. It's an Autism thing? Like, if we get overwhelmed sometimes we're prone to shutdowns or meltdowns. Shutdowns are like, we kind of withdraw ourselves in an attempt to cope with stress; Meltdowns basically feel like the world is crumbling all around you. He's more prone to shutdowns and I'm more prone to meltdowns, but we can experience either."

I nod along, taking in this information. "Okay... And those gestures were sign-language, yeah?"

"Yeah! I've been taking it as my second-language course since like, freshman year. I'm pretty fluent. My Dad only knows a couple of phrases and words, his hands can get kinda shakey sometimes and make it hard for him to sign but it's useful in its own ways too. I could teach you sometime?"

"Maybe, when my hands heal up," I say, showing off my recently rewrapped bandages.

Jeremy grimaces. "Oh, yeah... How is that one doing?" He gestures to the one I punched with.

I shrug. "Fine. I just gotta keep it covered up, it's gonna take longer to heal now but it'll be alright." I was mostly making an assumption. The nurse rewound the bandages but told me I should see a doctor about it... But, I knew my dad wouldn't be too keen on spending more money because I got into a dumb fight. I go to finish a sentence on my paper and wince a little. I hoped Jeremy didn't notice, but he did.

"Do you wanna stop?" 

I frown. "...If I stop I'd feel bad."

"Why?"

"Because I'm still really behind."

Jeremy sighs. "Well, If you don't stop now, then your hand might get worse... And if you're hand gets _worse_ you'll have to take an even longer break, right?"

I pause for a moment, considering this. And, well, he's right. I close my notebook and set my school things aside for now. Jeremy gives me a smile.

"I know that was hard, I'm proud of you." He says. That made me feel a little better. I lay back in my beanbag, and he does the same in his. And, for a moment, it's a little quiet. It's sort of peaceful, I never really got moments like this at home so the fact that I could at the Heere's made all the difference. 

I glance at Jeremy. "...You nervous? About today?"

He takes a moment. "...Of course I am, but I can't imagine how you feel either man."

I sigh. "...If they don't like... Take this well, I'll stay out of things. I know you like hanging around them and I don't want to ruin those friendships for you just because I did something."

I feel his hand graze the top of my head and look over at him. We're both upsides down now, just kinda looking at our foreheads.

"I... I like hanging out with Jake and the others, don't get me wrong. I've talked through a lot of my past issues and stuff with them and they've been decent about it. But, that doesn't mean I'm gonna leave you out to dry dude. This is mostly between you and them, if they bring me into it I'd feel like anything I could say wouldn't be valid because I did a lot of the same things and they were pretty quick to forgive me."

I huff. "Yeah but, you only did it for a few months... And you didn't burn a guy's fucking house to the ground. I'm not gonna ask you to choose sides, but like: Expect a bit of a shitshow."

Jeremy nods. "Yeah okay... Besides, whatever happens, our agreement stays in place yeah? I value your safety more than any sort of grudge. And just because Jake or the others hold it, doesn't mean I have to. Like, I get why they're upset but... I also get why you did what you did."

I let out a soft breath. "Thanks, Jer."

He chuckles a little.

"What?"

"I just realized that's the first time you've called me something other than 'Jeremy'. I dunno, it sounded casual, it was nice."

I smirk. "You're weird, Jer."

"Yeah but, I'm me weird."

I couldn't argue with that. We stay like this for a little while, just kind of talking about nothing in particular. I bring up this dumb article I read at home, Jeremy goes on about his cousins in New York, and overall we just have kind of a calm conversation. No urgency, no need to talk about things to come. 

It was just what I needed at that moment, and I was really happy to get it this time around.

* * *

There was now a small crowd amassed in Jeremy's living room. Mr. Heere was in his office, mostly to give us privacy (though I think his stress levels were also a factor as he was wearing a set of noise-canceling headphones). I wasn't actually sure how much Jeremy had told him, but I assumed he at least knew it was very important and likely going to be very intense. Jeremy was sort of pacing around for a moment, while everyone else settled down onto the couch. Jake was there, he still had crutches but instead of casts his legs now had boots. That was good, I figured, it meant he was at least recovering from his jump. I stay hidden a little, behind a wall. We agreed to give them time to digest the SQUIP information first.

"Okay," Jeremy begins after a few more moments, "Um, so, I at least hope you all know I brought you here because We need to talk about something important."

"Is this about Rich?" Jenna asks, "I get the feeling this is about Rich"

"It's um... Yes, but there's something else first-" Jeremy takes a deep breath, I can almost feel how nervous he is. Hell, everyone in that room feels really nervous, except Michael but I can never get a read on the guy. Not sure why I knew this. Might be an empathy thing, or maybe it's a SQUIP thing. Jeremy eventually settles again. "-Okay so, you know how we all did Ecstacy at the play?"

"I mean, Yeah?" Chloe mumbles, "We all know about that."

"Pretty much water under the bridge by this point," Jake says.

Jeremy brushes his hands on his legs. "Right um, so... that wasn't Ecstacy."

There's an immediate air of confusion. "What do you mean it wasn't Ecstacy?"

Jeremy gulps, I can tell his guilt is overtaking him. His next few words sound really forced out, like he's having trouble talking. "Y-you guys took little supercomputers called

SQUIPs and th-they implanted in your brain and took over your bodies temporarily until Michael came in and shut them off with some expired soda." He manages to finish his sentence off, and Christine squeezes his hand.

Jake bursts out laughing. "That's some funny shit, Really had me going there, Heere!"

Brooke and Chloe are also snickering. I almost feel like I need to step in. 

"You know he's serious right?" Jenna says, "Like, SQUIPs are a real thing." That surprises me a little, but It is Jenna.

Jake gives her a look. "You too, Jenna? Really?"

"We aren't lying," Christine exclaims, "Do you guys seriously not believe us?"

"No offense, Christine, but you guys soft pitching your sci-fi horror novel to us and trying to make us think it actually happened is kind of... Well, not believable?" Brooke says.

"Would you believe it from me?"

The laughter ceases, all eyes are on me. I step out further from my corner. 

"They're real. They're in your heads. They might always be there for all I know, but that isn't much. And there's more out there, we lost about 500 after the play. No idea where they went."

There's a good, long pause after I speak.

"You have a _Lisp_ now?" Brooke mumbles, almost like she doesn't even realize she said it out loud.

"Well, guess the rumors are true." Jake sighs, "You're back."

I pick at my bandages a little. "Look, I know I have a lot of explaining to do... But if you won't even believe in the SQUIP thing, which is the bare minimum of what you need to take out of this whole conversation, then I'll just leave."

We make uncomfortable eye-contact, and Jake slouches back with a huff.

"So, we all actually have supercomputers in our heads?" Chloe mumbles.

I nod. "Yeah." 

"Does that like... include Mr. Reyes?"

"Uh... Yeah. But, they're really dangerous, and Mountain Dew activates them so you probably shouldn't drink any. Ever. I'm not sure what it'd do but it could turn them on."

Brooke looks at me. "But, what exactly are they supposed to do?"

I rub my arm, staring down at my feet. "I... I'm not sure what their original intended purpose was. When I heard about them, I was told it was essentially a 'help-all'. If you gave it any problem you had, any at all, it'd fix it. If you had a lisp, it'd turn it off. If you wanted to be more masculine, it'd put you on a training regime. If you wanted friends, it'd make you the most popular guy in school... Or, it'd make you his friend and let the other pieces fall in place."

I pause for another moment, then keep going. "I... I didn't transfer here last year. I went to Middleborough during Freshman Year. But, no one noticed me. No one acknowledged me. If I just disappeared one day, or if I suddenly came back to school after summer with a new haircut and different clothes, people would be none-the-wiser... But, the catch was if you did something it didn't like, you had to put up with whatever punishment it gave you. You couldn't escape it, even if you could turn it off temporarily, it was always there in the back of your head. Just waiting. Sometimes it'd make you do things you didn't want just because it was the easiest way to get to what you **did** want. It didn't care, It was a computer no matter how much it seemed like a real person."

There's a long quiet this time. I look up. Brooke seems concerned, Chloe is just kind of processing...

And Jake looks pissed. "So, let me see if I'm hearing this correctly: You, Rich Goranski, just spent almost two years living a lie about who you really were because _a tiny computer in your head told you to?_ "

I gulp. "...Yeah."

"You aren't from New York?"

"Nope."

"You've lived down here your whole life?"

"Yup."

"And you never told this to anyone?"

I rub my arm. "Jeremy kind of knew, after my SQUIP made me try to sell him one, but no."

...

Jake laughs. It isn't like his earlier laugh, though. It's more like he's laughing because he doesn't know what else to do. "Oh my god."

I take a small step forward. "Dude, Look, I'm sor-"

His head snaps up. "Is that even your name? Is your name even _Rich Goranski_? Because, as far as I know, that isn't even a real person!"

My gut twists. That stings for reasons Jake will probably never know. "Look, I know-"

"Did it make you burn down my house?"

I feel like I'm gonna vomit, but I manage to hold back. "Yes!" I stop. "Wait... _No._.. I mean. I wanted it out of my head but It didn't really make me..." I huff, "I didn't have a choice, **Jake**."

"Sounds to me like you did." He stands up, on his crutches, and looks me dead in the eyes. "Sounds to me like you had the choice to take it..."

I breathe. "Y'know what, Yeah. I did. But that doesn't mean I asked for any of this. I thought it'd just like, coach me on how to talk to people. I didn't know any of this would happen! I didn't know what the hell this thing was capable of! I didn't know the only way to turn it off was some random expired soda!"

"Okay, maybe that part isn't your fault, but you still **burnt down my fucking house!** You could've gone to someone, _anyone,_ for help. Maybe they'd think you're crazy, but obviously Michael knew about the Mountain Dew thing and you probably would've gone to him at some point anyway. But no, You went down to the basement... The fucking lowest level of the floor, and set yourself on fire. Not even _thinking_ that the flames would climb back up, even though heat rises!"

I just let him stare for a moment.

"...I went to _you_ , Jake."

"Huh?"

I take a step closer. "You came out of your parent's bedroom after you and Chloe did god knows what in there, happy as a kite. And I went to you for help. And you know what you said? 'Stop being such a freak, man.'"

Jake pauses, his expression is still angry but there's a different demeanor behind it. I take another step.

"Your basement was lined with concrete. Concrete doesn't _fucking_ burn. The flames _trailed back_ to the gas canister and exploded. And I only started that fire because my SQUIP wanted me to start giving people hand-outs. You were probably on that list, and I still went to you because you were the only person I thought would listen to me."

He starts to slouch in his crutches a little.

"I had that thing in my head, for a year and a half. For a year and a half, I was told how to act. I was told how to talk. I was told how to avoid my deadbeat father. I was told I was useless without that thing. I was told that if I let anyone- you, my own brother, a random asshole on the street- know what I was really like they'd hate me. And I still went to you."

He bites his lip. I take a final step forward.

"How could you have known I was in the basement if you jumped from the second story?"

Jake can't answer.

"Did Kropp tell you? And you just didn't listen to him? Or did the fire department pull me out of there and tell you on the way to the hospital?"

Jake doesn't say anything.

"Cause, it sounds to me like I wasn't even on your damn mind until well after you saved your own ass. And I get it, okay? You jumped, that was traumatizing, _I get it_. I probably get it more than **anyone** in this room... But _your_ trauma existing doesn't mean that _mine_ suddenly doesn't. You breaking both of your legs doesn't change the fact that I watched my own body melt in front of me while no one cared enough to even so much as look for me. Okay?"

Jake's completely speechless. I just stare at him.

"It was off that night. When you called me? It didn't want me to check on you. I shut it off temporarily with some alcohol because I didn't want you to deal with that by yourself. It told me I'd gain nothing. It told me it wouldn't help with anything. It told me, so many times, 'Jake wouldn't do the same for you'..."

The whole room is so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

"-And I still went to you, because I thought you were better than that." I feel a slight weight on my shoulders as I say this. Jake looks at me in the eyes.

"Rich... I'm Sorry, But I can't just _forgive_ you for this."

I huff. It hurts. It does. "I know. I'm not asking you to forgive me. But, Jake, you're not the only victim. I'm not just some evil guy who did this for malicious reasons. I was hurting, I went to several people for help, and when none of them would I was left with 2 options: Kill that thing right then and there, or let it keep hurting me any whoever else it could get its hands-on. I only wanted what I thought would help everyone."

He takes this in for a moment. "Is that all you had to say?"

I shake my head, taking a few steps back. "...I'm sorry, to all of you. Again, I don't expect to be forgiven for any of the things I've done. But, I've been dealing with shit too. And, honestly? I wish we could've talked about this months ago. I wish we had this conversation while I was still in the hospital. But, none of you ever came to visit."

They all just look at me, like they don't even know what to say... And fuck if I do either. What else can be said? Jake walks away, out the door. I think he's done with whatever it is we were supposed to do here. Chloe leaves as well because she's his ride. She gives me a gentle pat on the shoulder as she passes.

Jenna looks up at me. "...I'm sorry for telling the whole school about the fire."

I shrug. "Would've gotten to them anyway. Stories spread, right? Real or Fake. I rather it be you than Dustin fucking Kropp, anyway."

She nods a little sadly. "Yeah... I think I'll go, but if you want to talk... It'll be between us."

That's probably the most genuine thing Jenna Rolan could ever offer. She leaves shortly after. Brooke follows, but stops when she gets to me... We just exchange looks for a moment. Then, she carefully wraps her arms over my shoulders.

"I'm sorry no one saw you."

...This is the one that hit me the most. Brooke pulls away, her eyes don't leave me until she's out the door and out of sight. It's just me, Jeremy, and Christine now.

"Damn... That was tense."

And Michael, apparently. I forgot he was here. I sigh, and My voice just kind of leaves me, like it's ashamed of the person it's attached to. I stare out the window, watching the cars leave until I meet my reflection. It's ashamed. It's _mad_. It's thinking **'you should've just kept your act going.'** It's thinking **'Your such an idiot, you lost every person you ever cared about'** And maybe he's wrong. I mean, I was never really friends with any of them...

But, I still was going to miss them. I still kind of wished maybe I could salvage something, that they'd accept my apology and everything would be downhill from here. And, maybe some of them could if we talked through it enough... But, That'd be a perfect little bow of an ending, and I've never once been fulfilled by those, so maybe _this_ was just the way things had to be.

I break from my reflection when I see Jeremy, quiet as I am, walk up behind me. Christine joins on the other side. And, Michael, well, he's got a bit more distance, but He's still close by. I told the truth, and I still had some people backing me up. That's more than I could've said for Pre-SQUIP Rich.

* * *

I go home a few hours later. 

Despite the fact that I packed enough for at least one night, I went home. I wouldn't have minded staying overnight, not at all, but... Well, That's the thing: I don't have a good reason not to. I just felt like I couldn't tonight, no matter how much they assured it would be alright. Maybe I needed to be alone, maybe it was just too much to handle for one day, or maybe I felt like I caused enough of an uproar at their house for one night, and maybe I just didn't want to admit that I wanted to stay; I'm not sure. 

I walk home kind of slowly, by the time I do get there it's taken me almost double the time it did this morning. It's almost like every bone in my body wants me to stay, but my stupid brain won't let me. I enter through my window, setting Todd down on my bed and my bag beside it. I don't shed my jacket until the rest of my body warms up to my room. I can hear the TV running in the other room, and decide to take my chances. Maybe the asshole actually went and got groceries today.

I entered the kitchen, look around, and sigh. I'm not sure why I expected any different from him. It's just as barren as it was this morning.

"-------? 's that you?"

He sounds wasted. Despite my reservations, I peek over at him. He's looking back.

"Wh-where'd you go?"

Something about him sounded... off. "I was with some friends, Pa."

My Dad's curled on the couch, he sniffles a little... "Wh-where's Steven?"

I gulp. "Steven's at college, Pa." Collage. Far away. Never coming back for either of us.

"J-just us?"

"Yeah, it's just us."

It'd been just us since November, technically... I glance to the wall, seeing a few old photographs in the frames. A family portrait, one just of mom, one just of Steven and Myself when we were really young, and a few moments that I don't even remember because I was too little. Happier times; Times before Mom died, Dad became an alcoholic, and I hadn't burned down a house and ruined almost every relationship that was even slightly important to me.

"D-don't leave, -------." My dad whimpers, "I don't wanna be alone."

I huff. He's really out of it. Reluctantly, I walk over and grab his arm. "C'mon, Pa... I think you need to go to bed."

For once, he complies, letting me help him to bed. It's not something I get often, this sobby drunk. Normally, he's an angry drunk. Or, rather: normally he's just angry. I don't think all the alcohol he drank regularly was really a factor in that. I think it was just something he used as an excuse. The truth was that Don Goranski was a huge crybaby when he drank too much, even if he never would admit it out loud.

...But, I'm not sure if any amount of crying he could show me would be enough to make me forget all those nights Steven and I had to curl up under his bed and wait for the fallout to settle.

I get him to his room, but before I can leave he pulls me into an unwanted hug. It's too tight for me to get away from, and after a few moments of trying, I just submit to it.

Tomorrow, he'd be reprimanding me because I'm in high school and _"big kids aren't supposed to fall asleep in their parent's bed"_ or some shit like that. But, tonight, he was gonna pretend I was still that wide-eyed newborn daughter he couldn't keep his promises to while his doped-up brain could believe it. He was gonna pretend that we had some close relationship when he really didn't do all that much to raise me compared to Steven. And I was gonna pretend along with him because even though I hate the guy's guts there's some twisted part of me that still wants to try...

But, that's \-------'s life... Not Richard's. And, like him, I was just gonna act like this never happened in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END ACT 1
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you for reading! There's gonna be a Hiatus for the rest of the month (and maybe some of January) so I can restore the backlog of Chapters. Until then, I will be posting story art on my Tumblr (@penguinpatrolerarmy) and answering questions. Feel Free to leave them either there or in the comments.
> 
> A playlist containing the official soundtrack for the fic has also been posted to Spotify, and Will be updated with new songs when Act 2 begins posting in 2021! Until Then, keep hype up for this story, it's far from over.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5G3bS7xBsrrgtW11eLZICd?si=vtoHT-a7T6-AspuJy1K4zw


	8. ACT 2 - RESTLESS HEART SYNDROME




	9. Armatage Shanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elected, the rejected  
> I perfect the science of the idiot  
> No meaning and no healing  
> Self-loathing freak and introverted deviant  
> \---  
> Rich, Jeremy, and Christine do a little cleaning.

I waited in the office with my hands folded, trying to keep my breathing steady. It was a little harder than someone might think, my nerves have been on edge since last week. And the dead silence of the room was _not_ helping that. No matter how much I tried to convince myself it was alright I couldn't remain completely calm. I was supposed to go in Friday, I think, but I forgot... So I sent a slip in this morning. I think it'd be more helpful now, though.

I catch my reflection in a picture frame with some weird inspirational text. It seems bored, like it doesn't think this will actually help. But, well, I gave Dr. Canonico my word that

I'd try it out. And admittedly those meetings I had with him made a difference in the hospital. So I was obligated to at least do that much: Try. Still, my reflection remains unimpressed, huffing and blowing our bangs up a little.

Someone eventually poked their head out from their office. "Goranski?"

I take a final deep breath and walk into the counselor's office. I avert eye-contact completely, just focusing down at my hands. My counselor seems to notice my demeanor but doesn't make a comment on it yet.

"So, Richard... How did your first few days back go?"

I take a moment to answer. "Just Rich...I guess it could've been worse? I'm still kind of behind on my homework, but I think I'm keeping up alright."

"That's good," she says, "And how has today been so far?"

I shrug. "Fine. Not much going on today." I rub my arm. "Had trouble finishing up a test..."

My counselor looks at me. "Oh, because of your hand? Dr. Canonico's email also covers that. Your teachers should already know this but you're allowed to have extra time on tests and assignments until your hands are healed up. I can remind them if you'd like?"

I blinked. I didn't know that was possible. "Um, yeah... That'd be great."

She writes something down on a note-pad, then continues. "Okay, now, I do need to bring up the incident last Wednesday."

I huffed. Jeremy had vouched for me in the nurses' office, which meant I didn't have to go into a meeting with the principal, but this was inevitable. "Look, all I did was defend myself. I literally couldn't breathe and reacted on impulse."

She nods, a bit understandingly. "This checks out with Heere's recount too. Now, This isn't the first complaint we've gotten about you this school year... But given your circumstances, we've decided to let you off with a warning this time around. Just try to stay out of trouble in the future, alright?"

I nod. Part of me felt like I was getting off too easy, given my track record. I should probably get a detention or two, at least, for some of the stunt's I've pulled this year. I almost voice this, but she starts talking again before I get the chance.

"Now, is there anything else you wanted to talk about today?"

I pause for a moment, thinking it over. There probably was, but I wasn't sure if that was good to dump on someone the first time I meet them. "...Not that I feel comfortable with."

She nods. "Okay then, Rich. Do you want to schedule again for the same time next week?"

I nod. "Yeah, Um If something comes up is there any way to change it?"

"Mhm. Just fill out one of the slips in the office and make a note that you're rescheduling." 

I gather my bag up in my arms and grab the hall pass I'd been given earlier. "Right, um... Thank you."

"Anytime, Rich."

I leave the office with an uncertain feeling... It was different from my time in the hospital, but maybe that was a given. It was going to be an adjustment, for sure. I look up at the clock... class was going to end in 15 minutes, and the room I came from was all the way on the other end of the school... I guess I could hide out for a bit. I Didn't need to pick anything up from my defaced locker (Some jerky seniors wrote a few... _choice words_ on the door. And some sophomore trying to get clout clogged the vents up with gum), so as far as I was concerned I could just calm my head until next period. I slip through the halls, stealthily making my way to this one corner of the school most kids dipped out in... The third hall stairwell, as it was referred to sometimes. It was multipurpose, sometimes people came to down a quick one, sometimes they came to meet up and ditch, and sometimes they came to fuck. To my surprise, it was empty today. But, then again, it was more popular after lunch.

I take a seat under one of the stairs. Taking a moment to catch my breath. I can see my reflection in a metal rail, but it's too warped to make out anything discernable. Yet, the fact that he's watching me still seems of note enough. I'd noticed he seemed to take on his own life recently. But, I didn't think it was my SQUIP. I think it was just me...

"Well, guess the rumors are true after all. The _Pyromaniac_ is back in school." I freeze, looking over my shoulder... And There is Dustin Kropp. 

To an outsider, Dustin was just a simple hook up... A Drug dealer with decent prices for high-school kids. But, I'd seen him work long enough to know that he was one of the slimiest mother fuckers in the entire school (In more ways than one). People who dealt drugs in high school were of two breeds: Those who actually _needed_ to sell things because they were poor, and those who did it for clout because they could afford to get caught. And Dustin Kropp was in the latter group. I glare at him as he paces around me.

"The fuck you want, Kropp?" I snap.

"Woah, calm down shorty... You menstruating or something?" Typical Dustin Humor, unfunny as always. My SQUIP used to make me laugh along or punch him depending on the situation, but now that I didn't have it I just rolled my eyes in disgust.

"No, just at my limit with scumbags right now."

"Ouch." He tuts, "All I came here to do is meet a client, but I saw you here and figured you could use some... _help._ " He raises a brow, and I know exactly what he's talking about.

"Look Kropp, I know what everyone has been saying... But, I just got clean. I'm not interested in your pot or speed or whatever the fuck you got right now." I dunno if I would call myself an addict, but I was definitely overdependent on a few things. And I was trying my best to not be.

He chuckles. "Clearly not... You must've gotten ripped off good man. You know Jeremy Heere found your stash and all the theatre kids got seizures from that shit?"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I heard. What of it?"

He takes a step back. And I realize he's still scared of me a little... I'm not sure if that's a blessing or a curse right now, but It might get him to back off.

"You have anything you actually want to discuss? Or just trying to make a quick buck?" I ask.

"Just waiting for a client," Dustin repeats.

"Alright... Leave me out of it. You already ruined me socially, I don't need any more drugs in my head."

He nods. "I mean, you did that first part yourself-"

I shoot a glare.

"-But yeah I did tell Jenna Rolan and y'know once Jenna hears something the whole school does." He walks away, opting to wait atop the stairs instead of under them. I think about calling him out for trying to push blame away... But I stay right where I am, letting my head space out for a few minutes. I hated him so much, more than words, I wanted to trudge up there and punt his stupid face.

I shake my head. No, I didn't want that... Did I? Dustin Kropp sucks but, well, that's how my SQUIP would solve the problem. And despite the fact that it got him to bug off for a few minutes, I didn't really want to make my reputation worse. The last thing I needed was more people to be afraid of me or hate my guts.

His client does come by. It's a fairly quick exchange; Dustin gets his money, and this sophomore I've seen straggling around the halls a couple of times gets some easy weed. I don't think about it very long, and once Dustin Kropp is gone there's a density in the air that leaves with him. The bell rings 5 minutes later, and I quietly shuffle to my next class as though neither of those exchanges had happened. 

And, for all I know, they didn't.

* * *

By my last period, I was kind of at my limit. I felt like if I did any more school work I would snap someone in half. But, thankfully, it's a very quick class. We don't have any kind of lesson plan, just a work day. The teacher recommended we study for an upcoming test but in my case I had too much catching up to do to even start on that. I just keep my head down, try to make a dent in my week, and let a song on Nimrod repeat in my ears until the bell finally rings. As I'm packing up, someone bashes my head into the desk and sprints off. I don't know who... Probably Keith Carsliel, he was a dick. He used to date Brooke but he cheated on her. The teacher didn't seem to notice what he'd done to me. Maybe I could find him, snap him in half. Then again, if I did that the entire basketball team would have my ass on Monday.

[I shook my head.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YnHtIUY7WZ0) No, wait, fuck... That was **SQUIP** Rich behavior. Not gonna do that. But, still, I was exhausted and just about ready to start throwing shit at someone and if he was in the way... 

Unfortunately, I couldn't quite go home yet. Because I agreed to help Jeremy and Christine check out the backstage section of the Cafetorium for SQUIP remnants. Michael was supposed to help out, too, but something came up last minute and he had to flake out... Which also meant we all had to walk home. I was hoping maybe the shoebox or whatever didn't get dropped in the beaker got stashed away somewhere for 'safekeeping' around the school. Since no one seemed to have it at their houses or lockers, it seemed like the best option. And the one we were all banking on...

So, here we were, sneaking around the crowds, holding onto loose sections of each other's clothes to ensure we didn't get separated should someone (or something) tried to stop us. I wasn't sure how likely that was, at all, but the mere threat of it was enough for us to take precaution. We'd nearly lost our heads to these things, we weren't about to lose each other.

The Lunch staff should probably be cleaning up, but that meant they were distracted, so we take our chances and bolt backstage. Jeremy peeks back out for a moment.

"Okay, I'm pretty sure no one saw us." He mumbles, "Let's try to make this quick, I don't wanna get locked in here all night."

"Don't have to tell me twice," I mumble. I'd actually almost been locked in all night once, freshman year. I got stuck in a janitor's closet towards the end of the day. Steven had to come to bust me out. Not a pleasant experience. I start looking in a few low spots, under chairs and props and curtains. Jeremy and Christine take turns boosting each other up on their shoulders and looking in high spots. The only places we can't look are a few locked cabinets and a closet that also led up to the catwalk. Mr. Reyes probably had the key, but I had serious doubts that he'd humor the idea of a SQUIP, even given the fact that he lived through it.

The search seems almost endless. Every place we look, we end up actually having to clean up around because most of the shit back here was a disorganized mess and it prevented us from getting into certain places. After a while on my hands and knees, I end up having to sit out because my burns were bugging me. I watch Jeremy and Christine for a bit, feeling useless, and groan.

"I fucking hate this."

Christine turns her head. "Which part of this?"

I shrug. "I dunno, All of it? We've been searching for half an hour and we haven't even found a single SQUIP or the shoe box. And It's my fucking fault we even have to find these things in the first place-"

Jeremy frowns. "Hey, C'mon we agreed we weren't gonna do that."

I shake my head. "Well, I should! I'm the one who agreed to sell all of those things!"

"No, You needed money and your SQUIP made you sell them so you'd have it."

I bite my lip... Sometimes, I regretted venting my frustrations with Jeremy. I curl in on myself.

"Rich," Christine begins, "You can't blame yourself for everything. You were groomed by a supercomputer to be a perfect poster-boy of success so it could sell itself to other people."

I shrug. "Doesn't mean I'm not responsible for my own actions."

"Well, you're right. But, your actions weren't always in service to yourself, were they? I bet half the time you barely even had a choice in the matter, right?"

I pause for a moment and sigh. "Let's just find these things or some evidence of them."

I stand up, forcing back a slight pain. They look like they wanna stop me, but one look and they know I'm not gonna budge. We keep digging around for the remainder of the hour, finding nothing and determining once and for all that these things are gone... Which, honestly, scares me. Whoever had these could do whatever they wanted with them, god forbid that person was already in a position of power.

I slouch into the wall. "Fuck, this is hopeless."

Jeremy paces around for a bit. "Well, if they aren't here, then someone must've taken them to a second location... I think we can rule out most of the people involved with the play, or at least the actors... Actually, the Tech Crew was up in the balcony all night and none of them were admitted so they probably didn't even get SQUIPs."

Christine tilts her head. "Do you think Mr. Reyes could've taken them? We haven't told him anything, he might've accidentally turned his back on."

I raise a brow. "If he did, do you think he'd still be bothering with this job? But, maybe we should probably keep an eye on him."

"...yeah, that's fair I guess." She looks down at her feet, one of which has been tapping for about as long as Jeremy's been pacing.

"But, if it's _not_ him then who else could it be?" Jeremy wonders, "Anyone at school could be a suspect, And I seriously doubt if they could help it these things would allow so much of themselves to be locked up in an evidence locker until the end of time... Rich, are you sure there's no one else you were synced to that could've taken them?"

I think about it and shake my head. "No. The only guy here I knew that had one was a senior graduate. He was out of school by the time I gathered enough pocket-change to actually buy one... And my old co-worker clearly didn't know shit, so we're on our own."

The doorknob leading outside suddenly jiggles, and before the three of us even have time to think about hiding it swings open. Thankfully, it's only Mr. Reyes, and we collectively sigh in relief. He looks at us, clearly perplexed.

"What are you three doing here?" He asks, "School let out an hour ago and We don't start club up again until next week."

None of us have a good excuse. But that doesn't stop Jeremy from trying.

"Would you believe it was a lame attempt at a surprise?"

Mr. Reyes rolls his eyes, but doesn't make any comment on it. "Listen, I appreciate that you're eager to get back. But technically this isn't an official meeting and we could _all_ get in trouble for it. You especially."

Christine nods. "We know, Mr. Reyes... We were just, um-"

I come up with a good lie. "Mark Jackson thought he left his Gameboy in here before break, but he's been too busy to check himself and was getting antsy so we offered to check for him... Plus we figured most of the shit back here hadn't really been organized or cleaned since before break and you'd appreciate it."

Mr. Reyes raises a brow and takes a look around. He seems to buy into this at least a little bit. "Well, you did a pretty good job... I _do_ appreciate it, they made me do most of the cleanup by myself before break, and clearly I could only do so much... Not Like I was going to be compensated for it."

"Yikes," Jeremy mumbles under his breath. "Did um- Did you see a shoebox at all? Woman's Running Shoes?"

Mr. Reyes hums, walking around a bit as though retracing his own steps "I might've seen a shoebox, now that you mention it. But I can't recall if or where I moved it. I definitely didn't throw it away if there was something in it... Though, I presume if the three of you found nothing, I might've locked it up." He stopped in front of the locked storage closet and unclips his keys from his belt-loop. He props the door open for us, then moves to one of the free-standing cabinets and starts looking around through those.

I climb up to the catwalk and do a quick sweep up there. It's a little too high up for my liking, but at least it's thorough. I find nothing, much to my displeasure. But, I'll sleep knowing I checked. By the time I climb back down, Mr. Reyes has already switched to the second cabinet and Jeremy and Christine have mostly cleared the remaining closet space. I help them look around the rest of it, but no shoe-box. 

"Well, This bites," I grumble. We walk out to see Mr. Reyes unlocking the third and final cabinet... We brace, for a moment. But, to our disappointment, it's mostly bare except for a few recollected costumes and a spare beaker prop (it's empty). We collectively sigh in disappointment, and Mr. Reyes looks at us a little remorsefully.

"Sorry, I guess it's not in here." 

I throw my head back. "Shit."

Jeremy looks up at him. "Do you remember if anyone else came by?"

He raises a brow. "This really means a lot to you three, huh? Well, I didn't *see* anyone come by. That doesn't mean they didn't though... It's also possible that got turned into the lost-and-found by the custodian staff, but otherwise, I'm not sure where else it could've ended up."

"Right... Thank you for helping us, Mr. Reyes." Christine says, "We'll be back for rehearsal next week!"

He laughs a little, "It's not really a rehearsal until I get a play picked out, but I hope you kids find that shoebox! If it turns up anywhere I'll let one of you know."

We quietly walk out of the cafetorium and into the outside world, a bit let down that our search ended like this. Though, Jeremy tries to find a bright side to it (which, given how depressed he was at the beginning of the year, I think was a sign of self-improvement).

"Okay, we didn't find the SQUIPs, but we at least know Mr. Reyes doesn't know anything."

Christine nod. "Yeah, He definitely wasn't lying. I could tell."

I huff. "We probably should've told him not to drink mountain dew."

Jeremy grimaces. "Yeah, maybe... But, I don't know if he drinks it regularly enough for it to be a concern."

"Still, we should've-"

A car suddenly passes by, and I find myself choking on the exhaust for a bit. Jeremy is instantly back at my side, patting my back as I reel over and start hacking up my lungs.

....And under a layer of slush and leaves, I see a tiny baggie. I slowly bend down and pick it up. The capsule had been crushed under the weight of my foot, maybe even before then, but it was unmistakable. I look at it, then between Jeremy and Christine.

"I think it's safe to say they aren't at _school_ anymore." I cough. My anxiety causes my lisp to come out more prominently than it had for most of the day. Even if the computer itself might've been destroyed, it was too small to know for sure. I stare for another minute. Then, I drop the baggie and stamp my foot back down a few times, grinding my soles into the ice-slicked pavement until it's packed into the grips and I nearly slip.

Jeremy half-catches me. "Woah- Richie! Hey- I think you got it. It's dead."

I shake my head, once more picking up the slightly torn baggie. It still held the capsule, and it still held the nano-computer housed within it. "I gotta make sure, man... Fuck what do we do with this?"

Jeremy shivers a little, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "We can flush it? If you want? Or bury it somewhere?"

Christine hums. "Would that be enough to get rid of it for good?"

"I mean, even if Rich didn't just totally trash it, it's not _active._ It can't call for help."

I stare at the little pill, seeing a bit of my reflection in the bag.

"...Can it?" I ask. We all look between each other, and it dawns on us that we aren't even sure. I bite my lip, gulping. I almost wish we hadn't found it at all, but it was better that we had... right?

Christine puts an arm on my shoulder. "Rich? We'll figure something out... But, let's figure this out indoors instead of freezing out here, yeah?"

I stare at the bag again, shakily putting it in my pocket. "Y-yeah, okay... yeah." Just seeing one of them again was freaking me the _fuck_ out. But, I think the fact that I was freaking out was freaking Jeremy and Christine out-and I didn't wanna do that. I stay as close to them as possible, afraid if I stray for a second something bad will happen to one of us. I must be shaking too much as I walk because Christine reaches her arm out. I partially feel like I should refuse it, but I grab on anyway. It's a bit awkward, Christine is one of the few people at our school who is shorter than I am, but If nothing else it helped her feel better... And, Maybe I did a little too (Even if there was something that made me too stubborn to admit it to anyone). Jeremy doesn't join the arm holding, but his hands are in front of him gently flapping. He talked a little to me about this stuff, stimming he called it, and I took this to mean he just didn't wanna touch anything right now. Christine, after a few moments, starts to make a gentle chirping sound... Jeremy echos the noises.

Suddenly, they repeat a little melody, and I blink when I realize I recognized it.

"That's Good Riddance,"

"Huh?" Jeremy tilts his head to the side, confused.

"We made a real song?"

"Yeah," I start to sing the part they'd chirped, " _Another turning point a fork stuck in the road, time grabs you by the wrist directs you where to go_ \- That's a really famous song, You guys not recognize it?"

Christine shakes her head. "When you put Lyrics to it, it sounds a little familiar."

"I didn't realize that we'd hummed a real song though." Jeremy mumbles.

"You two are the only people I know who can Accidetally hum a song." I laugh.

"Well uh- Look at you- The nerd who knows what the song is named." He says back.

I shrug. "Eh, My brother likes Green Day, can't help picking up a few of them." I refrain from mentioning the CD player in my back-pack or my little routine... It just so happened that song was the one I was repeating at the moment. This seemed to lift their moods a little, I didn't wanna bring it back down with my personal crap. I thought about that little melody from my hospital room. I wonder if that was a Green Day song, too. But, I hadn't heard it on Nimrod at all...

I notice Jeremy and Christine staring at me with a bit of a sparkle in their eyes. "What?"

"Could you keep singing it?" Christine asks.

I roll my eyes, but I oblige, continuing the song as we go along our way. "-S _o make the best of this test and don't ask why, It's not a question but a lesson learned in time_ -"

The song is a welcome addition, even if I don't consider myself as nice of a singer as Billie Joe Armstrong is. It's just a moment where a song was needed, and though we don't comment on it much as I finish out, it lets us forget for a little while that we're a bunch of stressed-out kids dealing with things outside of our control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank You All For waiting patiently on this update! I promise your time will be well worth it. Strap in, there's a lot more of this story to get through.
> 
> As always, comments are encouraged and greatly appreciated!


	10. Stuck With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cast out, buried in a hole  
> Struck down, forcing me to fall  
> Destroyed, giving up the fight  
> Well, I know I'm not alright  
> \---  
> Rich, Jeremy, and Christine decide to have a sleepover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 technically! Wooo!!! As always if you enjoyed this chapter please comment below!

Along the way to Jeremy's we decided it would be nice to have a sleepover to let us settle our heads.

In cool guy circles, sleepovers were socially acceptable, but you never called it a sleepover. Instead, you called it "passing out fucked up in a random part of the house and helping yourself to breakfast the next morning." Girls could call it a sleepover, but guys couldn't because of bullshit gender standards... However: In loser circles, sleepovers either consisted of one guy and his friend (By Jeremy's accounts) or that thing people talked about in the halls that you would never be invited to (By Christine's accounts). So, technically, on both circles, it wasn't my first. But, it was the first time I was invited and not just staying over out of necessity.

Then again, I was probably overthinking it.

Thankfully, both Christine's and my houses weren't major detours on the way to Jeremy's... Even more thankfully my dad was still at work when we got to my place so I was able to just walk in and grab my shit (Clothes, Todd, Meds, a blanket). I was glad he was gone. The last thing I needed was for Christine or Jeremy to see how he gets when he's in a mood. He'd been a little worse lately, I noticed...

I check the kitchen real quick for some snacks, but all I see is beer. My skin starts to itch. I shouldn't but my nerves are really off, and this is supposed to be a fun day. It's not really fun if we aren't all relaxed. Plus maybe it'll keep any SQUIP related crisis' from occurring.

I grab one off my dad's recently purchased 6 pack, drink enough just to ease myself, and dump the rest. In its place is enough money to buy another. By the time I get home tomorrow, he hopefully won't care. I walk out... And once Jeremy, Christine, and I continue on our way I feel even calmer. Even with that busted up SQUIP stuck in my pocket. But, at least if it was in there I knew that it was still there and not off hurting someone.

Pretty soon we're back at Jeremy's. Mr. Heere isn't home yet but a phonecall told all of us that he was fine with the sleepover, and Jeremy quickly decided to make a bunch of snacks... 

"I think you're going a little overboard," I say, looking at the mountain of popcorn kernels he's putting into an air popper. He isn't gonna pop it right away, he's just getting it ready for later. But, it was still a metric shit ton.

Jeremy raises a brow. "Hey, it's not enough food if we don't get tummy aches at the end."

Christine gives it a look over, humming. "Maybe we should invite a fourth person? I'd feel bad if we wasted food, but I do agree with Jeremy's sentiment about Belly Aches."

"I guess that couldn't hurt... What do you think, Richie?"

I ponder for a moment, contemplating. I wouldn't mind having a fourth person, but everyone we know kind of has it out for me... Or if they don't seeing them would be kinda awkward. .. But, maybe this would be a good opportunity to make it less awkward.

"As long as they know I'm here and actually wanna come over, sure. But, maybe not too many people." That was my bar.

Jeremy pats me on the shoulder. "Great... Uh, I'll ask Michael, if that's cool with you guys?"

It goes unsaid that this is fine. Jeremy starts texting something, then goes back to making snacks. I look around for a bit, "Should we make something a little sweeter too? To contrast with the popcorn?"

Jeremy beams, his hand patting against his hip. "Oh! Yeah! That's a great Idea, Rich! Um, I think we have brownie mix somewhere-" There's a buzz on his phone, and he checks it... He seems a bit upset. "Uh, so... Michael can't make it, says he had other plans. Any of you have someone you wanna invite?"

I shrug. "I don't got a phone or any other friends, so..."

Christine thinks for a bit. "Oh! Y'know, me and Jenna were talking about maybe hanging out sometime, she might be available?"

"Oh, Jenna? She's nice. I'd actually like to have her over, Rich?"

I thought for a moment. "Uh, sure."

I wasn't sure how Jenna and I would mesh after everything. Technically, I had more reason to be upset with her than she did with me. But, I also never really knew Jenna on a personal level. She was just the best source of gossip around the school for every popular kid to use as they wished. Myself included. The one time we did talk genuinely, I was supposed to slip a SQUIP to her. But I think out of everyone I knew, Jenna was someone I could actually try to build a new relationship with, partially because we never really had one. 

...If she'd let me, that is.

"Anyways," Jeremy begins again, "Rich we got some brownie mix up in the cabinets, but I can also ask my dad if he can pick up a pizza or something on the way home from work."

I climb on the counter and start digging through cabinates. "I hope you guys like pineapple then. I mean, if you don't it's just more for me but, I'm still gonna ask for it."

Christine snorts. "Okay, weirdo." It's said with affection, "Also Jenna said she can come over so We're rationing for four bellyaches now!"

We all cheer and go back to our preparations. I stare at the box of brownies for a moment, pretending to read the ingredients... I was still nervous, maybe I should've downed more of that beer. Oh well. I was at the Heeres. Whatever happened tonight, I was safe.

* * *

Jenna got over before Mr. Heere had.

By this point, we had the brownies out cooling down and Jeremy had brought his Dad's old Nintendo downstairs and started to set it up. So, I ended up answering the door.

I took a deep breath, put on a smile (just for the time being), and opened it. "Hey."

Jenna had her own, more genuine looking smile. "Hey! Where's the fun at?" 

I let her inside, Leading her back to the living room where we had all dumped our stuff. It was a very quick interaction, sure, but a good one... I think. Jeremy and Christine quickly greeted her as we came in. And Once Jeremy was done fumbling with wires we all got the bright idea to try and build a pillow fort. Maybe it was a bit childish, but none of us really cared. We were having some harmless fun, that's all that mattered.

Jeremy started to drape a spare bedsheet over some of the pillows and chairs we brought in as support structures. "Okay guys, keep it steady..." He did this like he'd done it a thousand times before, and carefully taped the ends of the sheet down when he was done.

Jenna releases a breath. "Dang, thought you weren't gonna make it."

Jeremy's whole body just kind of releases tension. "I didn't either." He huffs, his body falls a little into Christine, who just pats the side of his head.

"Well, it paid off, this is a really nice pillow fort."

I thought it was, too... I mean, I'd never really seen a pillow fort before, but I thought it was nice. Cozy. If we were actually inside of it, it'd perfectly block out the rest of the world that wasn't the TV and the fairy lights we had hung.

I play with my fingers for a bit. "So I guess we just gotta wait for Mr. Heere to get back with the Pizza and Sodas, huh?"

Jeremy shrugs. "Yeah... Uh, You guys wanna play some Mario Bros. or Metroid or something? My dad and I got most of the NES library at our disposal... I have Apocolypse of the Damned too but that's for Michael-Time so I'd prefer something else, feels wrong otherwise."

We settled on starting our gaming session by taking turns at different Mario levels. Mr. Heere arrived home sometime in the middle of World 5, during which we paused and took a well-deserved Pizza break. As I ate, I couldn't help but think to myself...

Things were going well... Maybe _too_ well... The last time something went this good for me, it crashed and burned. I gaze at the others for a moment... First Jeremy, Then Christine, Then Jenna...

I feel my stomach squeeze and excuse myself to the bathroom. It was Jeremy's turn again anyways, I had at least 2 levels to settle my head for a bit. I think I walked maybe a bit too quickly, but hopefully, they'd just think I had to take a bad shit or something. When I finally enter, I take a few deep breaths... Fuck, why was this so hard? I didn't object to having Jenna over, why was seeing her freaking me out so much? Is it that bad? Or am I just tweaking? I shake my head... I'll be okay. I just gotta nip this thing in the bud.

"When have you ever done that?"

I freeze, staring at reflection in the mirror.

"You avoid everything. Hell, you're avoiding it right now."

I blink, and shake my head again. "You're not real." I mutter, "You're just some phantom SQUIP symptom. Go away." That had to be all it was. It was the only logical explanation, right?

My reflection cocks one of his brows. "Am I? Or are you just saying that because it makes it easier on your brain? You don't wanna admit you're as crazy as the rumors say, hm?

I pause, somewhat unable to refute. But, I stand my ground. "You aren't real. Go away."

"You're the one talking to me. I'd say that makes me pretty real, Rich."

"Not like I got many options."

My Reflection chuckles a bit. "So much for 'nipping the bud'. You barely even wanna talk to yourself, what makes you think you're just gonna strut out there and talk to Jenna fucking Rolan?"

"Hey! Don't be rude. I agreed to her being invited, and she came so obviously she didn't care too much that I was here, right? Besides, you and I know we have the least amount of issues to work out."

"Yeah, but you still got intense problems. For one, you ignored her existence completely for two and a half years. And for another, she ruined you socially."

"No, I did that myself."

"Oh, look at you, mimicking Dustin Kropp. You think higher of that piece of scum than you do yourself? Pity."

I pause. "You're just one of those intrusive thoughts Dr. Canonico told me about, yeah? Yeah, that's it. I'm just stressed out and had a little to drink for the first time in months... Hell, you talked to me a little that day Jake and everyone else was over, I remember. I'm just stressed out."

My reflection tilts his head. "Stressed out. Fucked Up. Stoned. A Total Basket Case. Call it what you want, I still got a point though. And You know it. You're not gonna nip this thing in the bud. You can't even admit to yourself that someone you barely know caused us just as much pain as the SQUIP did."

I slam my hand on the counter and grit my teeth. "No one will ever fuck me up as much as that stupid fucking computer. Not. One. Person. Okay?"

He holds up his hands in defeat. "Then why aren't you out there confronting it, Rich? If it's not even as close as bad to the SQUIP? You just keep sitting there, quiet, acting like nothing's wrong between you two. Either confront it or acknowledge that it's too fucked up and move on!"

I think about this for a moment...

My reflection rubs between his eyes. "Look, if all you're gonna do at this sleepover- which is supposed to be a way to relax and not worry about the elephant in your pocket- is be miserable... Then maybe you should uninvite yourself. I mean, sleepovers aren't even cool."

I sigh, rubbing my arm... I didn't want to admit he had a slight point, but... "...No, I'm gonna stay. And I'm gonna talk to Jenna. I still want to be here." 

There's a knock on the door. "Rich, you good in there?"

I look back at my Reflection again, but he's not as animated as before. I grip the pill in my pocket tightly and open the door again. Jenna is right there.

"Sorry, hope I didn't make you wait too long."

"Oh, No you're fine I Just... You were in here for a while and your turn was coming up so."

I peek outside for a second. "...Could we um... Talk? Privately."

Jenna takes a breath. "Yeah, sure. I kinda figured this was coming." She steps into the bathroom and shuts the door again. I keep my back to the mirror, not caring to watch my reflection while I formulate my words.

Jenna speaks before I get the chance to. "Been a while since we talked one-on-one, huh?" It helps break the tension a little. I slouch onto the sink counter.

"Yeah, It has... Jake's end-of-summer party I think, right?" August felt so long ago now. Hell, it was a long time ago. Things seemed so simple back then... Then again, I was being manipulated by a supercomputer. It wasn't simple. I just was hurting too much to see how hard I had it.

Jenna nods. "That was probably the first time someone ever _talked_ to me."

I fidget with my fingers until a chill runs up my spine and I find myself stopping. "I uh... I know I said before that I didn't mind you had told everyone about the fires, but... The Rumors part of it. That still like, hurt me... Y'know?"

Jenna nods. "Yeah, I um... I saw some of the stuff that got written on your locker. It's... Kinda fucked up. And, I'm really sorry it got this bad. I should've thought more about it."

I take a breath. "Well... As I said, I'd rather it be you than some other fuckjob at our school. Like, You just do it so people will talk to you."

Jenna shakes her head. "No, Rich. I um... I did do it for those reasons but... I don't think that was a [_good_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aiyu5dMG560) reason to. And, I've actually been working on like. Not relying on that kind of shit."

"Oh, yeah?"

She rubs her arm, and her expression turns more somber. "That whole SQUIP thing kind of, changed me, I think? Like, I only had mine for a week but it kinda... Made me think about some stuff."

I try to express empathy. "Well, even a week with that thing is a week too long. I'm uh, glad you're working more on yourself, though. I've kinda been in that boat lately, too."  
We're quiet for a moment. I have a lot more I want to say but, it's hard to actually speak. Jenna looks about the same. I pick at my bandages for a moment.

"So um, SQUIPs, huh?"

She nods. "Yeah. Jeremy caught me up on what you guys were doing...You still got it in your pocket?"

I gulp, slowly pulling it out and just barely making it visible in my palm. "I was gonna flush it, that's why I came in here but I couldn't... I don't know if that's enough." It's not really a lie, that's what I wanted to do now.

"Do you really think anyone is gonna eat it like that? Even if they do find it?"

I shake my head. "No, but like, what if a fish or something eats it and then they ate the fish?"

She sighs. "I guess, do you really think that's probable though?"

I stare down at it. "...I don't wanna make safe assumptions about it. I've seen a side of this thing that no one should ever have to."

Jenna nods. "Well, It's good to see you have a heart without that thing in your head... You wanna make sure it's never eaten, right?"

I nod, quietly.

"Well um, my Dad makes scented candles. Y'know the kind with a lot of essential oils? I help out sometimes make experimental scents. I could put it under the wick when I glue it down, there's usually a little gap that it should fit into. I'll keep it for myself. Then when it gets thrown out it'll just rot in a landfill somewhere instead of in the food chain. I'll let you come over and watch even, that way you can rest easier?"

I pause, thinking over it for a good long time. "That sounds kind of complicated, but... I guess that's one way to get rid of it and make it inedible."

Jenna smiles, and I smile a little too. I keep it in my pocket, zipping it up. I'll probably just head over to her house tomorrow then. I feel some tension leave my body, but i stare at my feet as another thing occurs to me:

"I'm sure with your self-improvement, it's at least a peg in your plan, but... I need to know you're not gonna do something like what happened with me again. Like, if you wanna just talk to someone I'd be happy to listen but, those rumors seriously fucked me up.

Jenna puts an arm on my shoulder, very very gently. "I promise you, I'm not... That was the first peg, actually. And, Brooke's been helping me keep to them."

I blink. "Oh, Brooke? You guys talk now?"

Jenna gets a little nervous all of the sudden. "Oh, yeah. We talk... We hang out too." She gets this look on her face, one I know all too well.

"Ohhh, I see." I'm a little teasy, but I don't take it too far, "I'm happy for you two. She's a sweet gal, you take good care of her yeah?"

"I do, don't worry."

"Good, good... Um... I wouldn't mind hanging out with you sometime, either. Like, obviously not the way you two do- I'm not really ready for a relationship right now- but Uh, y'know if you ever wanna talk at Lunch or complain about stuff over Twitter-"

She holds up her hand. "Hey, I'd like that... As long as you let me get a few words in."

"Not a problem," I tap my fingers against the counter, "I'm sorry I never tried to be friends before."

Jenna looks over at me. "Would your SQUIP have let you?"

I sigh. "...Probably not."

"Then, don't blame yourself too hard for that, okay? If it was _that_ controlling over you, I won't hold it against you."

I nod. "Um, so... Brooke's been good then yeah?"

Jenna's expression changes. "She has... I'm not gonna make you do anything you don't want to but... I think you two should talk sometime. Kinda like this, I think she'd like that."

I nod. "Trust me, I really want to... But, This was a pretty big leap for me just now so... I need a little time." I inhale. "Well uh, I think we've kept Jeremy and Christine waiting long enough, yeah?"

"Yeah, Plus I still gotta kick your guy's butts at Excite-Bike when we swap games!"

I turn to look in the mirror while Jenna stares in the door. My reflection huffs, but doesn't say anything else. I laugh as we walk back. Jeremy and Christine had the game paused and took to cuddling in our absence. They seemed a little embarrassed when we did get back, but I just took the controller and got to work on beating the next level so we could continue with our games.

* * *

We eventually beat Mario and move onto Excite-Bike... 

When we've had enough of that we watch Jeremy attempt to beat his Metroid record for a bit... 

And when we've exhausted most of the NES library Jenna plays some soft music on her phone and we take to playing some cliche teenager games. All while stuffing our faces with pizza and popcorn and brownies. Mr. Heere checked in on us intermittently, occasionally swiping a snack for himself, but now he had gone to bed for the night. All that remained were four teens sitting in a circle playing Truth or Dare. It's a very simple sort of pleasure, but one I'd been denied most of my high school life. And, honestly, experiencing it for once was nice. You never really played truth or dare at a party until you were too wasted to remember any of it. Maybe that made this session laxer by comparison, but I liked the idea that I'd actually recall something the next morning.

"Okay, so, Truth or Dare?" I ask Jeremy. 

"Uh... Dare?"

I think for a moment. I didn't want it to be too harsh. Then, I think of it. "I dare you to eat one of the pizza slices with Pineapple on it."

Jeremy groans. "Alright, but I'm gonna complain about it." He pulls up a slice out of the box. It's a bit lukewarm now, but probably still just as good. "Do I have to eat the whole thing?"

"Unless It's _that_ bad for you."

Jeremy shrugs. "It's not a texture thing, I just don't like how pineapple tastes all that much." He takes a breath and maneuvers the somewhat floppy slice into his mouth. The cold cheese snaps instantly when he pulls away. He says some complaint that I can't make out through all the food. But, I feel a little happy with myself.

"Mrrph- S-s-someone get him back!" Jeremy says once he fits the rest of the pizza in. Christine gives me a devilish smirk.

"Truth or Dare, Rich?"

"Truth." I was still recovering from an earlier dare involving swallowing a cup of salt-water.

Christine frowns. "Boo... Fine um... Oh! Why do you carry that CD player around with you now?"

I twiddle my thumbs, "I uh, It used to be my brothers'... I think he left it behind on accident along with some other stuff, So I've been holding onto it for him in case he ever... I don't think he's coming back, I dunno if we're like, _close_ anymore. But, It keeps us connected I guess."

 **Except, I don't say say that...** Instead, I say: "I don't exactly have a phone anymore so, A ten-year-old portable CD player stuck on shuffle mode is the best thing I got." I rub my eye a little to prevent what felt like a tear.

"Could I see it?" Jenna asked. I reach into my backpack, pulling it out.

"I got two CD's, but I haven't listened to the second one because it's got like, plot? And That's kinda hard to do since it's stuck on shuffle."

Jenna glares at the player for a moment. Then, she pulls a bobby pin out of her hair, scrapes around the edge of one of the buttons, and it suddenly springs back up. I look at it... It was the shuffle button, of course.

"How'd you do that?"

"Huh... Oh! There were some really stale crumbs in the grooves, I cleared them out. It looked like icing or something, which is probably why it was stuck like that, that stuff is basically a glue when it dries out enough." She explains, handing it back to me. There's a short moment where both our hands on it. She kind of freezes for a moment, then pulls back. But, she doesn't say anything about it so I don't think much of it.

I press shuffle down again, then back up. It was fixed. I'd probably keep it on shuffle to finish out Nimrod because it was a fun, weird way to listen to it. But I felt a little happier knowing I could start American Idiot soon.

"Thanks, Jen. Really, I appreciate that."

"Eh, it's nothing. I have skills with old tech... Anyways, who's turn is it?"

We continue our game, pretty late into the night, I can't recall when we stop... But, we just all sort of got into a conversation that naturally brought the game to an end. It was kind of an introspective one, too.

"You ever wonder what it's gonna be like when we get out of high school?" Jeremy asks, "Like, Michael used to always tell me 'Hey, we'll be cool in college,' but I'm not even sure if I'm a good fit for college. I don't think I fit anywhere other than my house."

Christine lets out a soft sigh. "Yeah. Life after high-school kind of scares me... I really want to go into Theatre. Like, that's my big dream. But, it's a tough industry... What if I'm not cut out for it?"

Jenna nods. "I think you got it, Chrissy... I'm still trying to figure out what I even wanna do with my life. I haven't really found a specific calling."

I rub my hands on my stomach, trying to settle myself. I take a breath, and let it all out. "... I don't think I have a future if I'm being honest. My dad's not gonna pay for my college. My brother definitely won't pay for it. I think if I'm lucky I'll be stuck in a dead-end job at a convenience store that gives me just enough to live paycheck-to-paycheck in one of those crummy apartments by Menlo Park... Hell, by this point I'll be lucky enough to not flunk out of school."

Jeremy looks over at me. "Well, would you go to college? If you could afford it?"

I shrug. "Maybe... I don't know where I'd go or what I'd major in, though. It'd be nice to get out. This town just feels like static sometimes."

"Static," Christine mimics, "I think that's a good word for high school... It's static. It's structured and mind-numbing until before you know it you're expected to do something else with your life after 12 years of dedication to a structure that even if you hated it made some sense to you. It didn't change too much, people came and went but the idea of School was always there. Now you're just gonna be expected to not deal with it..."

"...Damn." Jenna mumbles.

She said what we all felt... The scary reality that was life after high school just loomed over us like a piano waiting to drop. And I don't think any of us were going to be ready when it did. We just were going to be thrust out of our familiar routines and into a whole new world that we didn't know what to expect from. Not really. Even if we had jobs or hardships...

I waited quietly for everyone else to fall asleep, then slowly pull Todd out of my bag and nestle him under my arm. My bandages squeeze into my muscles as I shift but by this point, I'm used to the burn... I fall asleep on my stomach, more peacefully and with a fuller stomach than I had in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Comments are very appreciated and encouraged! Thanks for reading!


	11. Brain Stew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed  
> Dried up and bulging out my skull  
> My mouth is dry, my face is numb  
> Fucked up and spun out in my room
> 
> On my own, here we go...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! It's another chapter.  
> As always if you enjoy this one leave a comment at the end of the work!

[There was a simple pleasure in being able to sink into the couch.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IPeJ7iM55hc)

Most folks might think of it as such a commonality that It's little more than an afterthought, but for me: sinking into the couch meant safety. It meant My dad was away at work and I wouldn't have to worry about him. It meant I had the house to myself, and plenty of time with it that way. It meant being alone with my thoughts

**R̶̢̈́ì̷̪c̷̯͂ḧ̵̖́a̸̜͝r̸̘̋d̶̢̉.̷̫̄.̵̹̋.̸͚̒**

It meant I could eat some leftovers and sneak another beer with a 5-dollar bill stuffed into one of the slots. 

Of course, my old man was kind of getting on my case about it, even with me reimbursing him. I shouldn't, but something about the drunkness just calmed me. I knew it was a slippery slope, but I've worked out a system: If I get that urge, I ask someone if they wanna hang out first. I'm a little more comfortable around Jenna and Christine now, so if Jeremy's not available usually I can hang out with them. But, well, if no one's available like today... 

It was my first one in a while, so as far as I was concerned the system was working at least a little. glared over my math homework, trying to focus on it. It's not the easiest thing in the world though. I hadn't slept well the previous night, my eyes were bleary and a dull throb sounded through my head every couple of seconds. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the idle TV.

"You can't even focus in class, what makes you think you're gonna focus at home?"

Oh, great. I regret leaving my CD player in the other room, but once I engage him it's hard to get my reflection to stop. "Do you have to be so loud?"

"No. But think of it this way, now you actually have an excuse to not focus. You aren't distracted, you aren't tired, why can't you just pay attention?"

I tap the end of my pencil against my notebook at a steady pace. "Shut Up, you aren't real."

My reflection sneers. " _Thut up, you aren't real._ You keep telling yourself that, and yet as I pointed out last time: Here you are, still talking to me." He slicks his hair back with some spit.

"Yeah, I wonder why, you never have anything worthwhile to say!" 

This seems to get him to quiet down for all but a moment. "Damn, cut me deep Richie-G... You really wanna get that work done don't you? Why do you keep being a lazy bum about it?"

"I dunno, My brain just won't stay focused on it."

"...Y'know, there is one thing that can get you to focus... Course, it'll cost you-"

"I'm not swiping another beer, I've already had one for the day I'm not gonna stoop to that. I gotta save my cash... And you know what he did last time-"

My reflection rolls his eyes. "What, the screaming? It wasn't even that bad. It wasn't even enough for you to go crawling to the Heere's for the night... But, if you insist brainiac! Solve the problem! Prove you can do it!"

I start filling out an equation... But, the more I stare at it the more it leaves me and becomes a garbled mess of letters and numbers and signs until my headache gets worse just from trying. My body rolls back into the couch cushions.

My reflection looks almost disappointed. "Damn, that's it? That's the show?" 

I'm disappointed with myself, too. But, I stay firm. "I'm not gonna drink again."

He frowns "You might as well turn this thing on and rot your brain out even more! Not like you're gonna be productive today!"

I stare at the TV, my arm shaking a little... I needed to work. I really did. I needed to catch up in school. But I hadn't been able to will myself to so far, and I got the feeling that no matter what I did today I wouldn't. If I could, I'd probably switch to a hobby. But, I don't have one, so TV it is. I switch it on, my reflection vanishes and my body slouches so far into the couch that I can make out bits of the frame.

My brain rots out to some crummy reality show this station happens to be re-running. But the whole time I can only think about how unproductive I'm being. How I could've been doing work if I just focused. But... I can't. I can't bring myself to care enough to focus on my homework and I don't know why. I could flunk out of the grade if I didn't get going on it... The end of the trimester was coming up and I dunno if I'm even gonna make that deadline anymore. It'd not like days like these helped my case.

The guilt in my stomach churns and growls, but I have no appetite to settle. I'm not sure if I'm sick or drunk or whatever. All I know for certain is my reflection was right: I was too lazy to get any work done. I was too lazy to do homework, too lazy to make a hobby for myself, and too lazy to even eat anything. And that was the worse kind of laziness there was. 

If nothing else, watching TV kept me from Drinking.

* * *

Another thing that kept me from drinking was Theatre. 

Course, I can bet half the students in school have some kind of 'nerve calmer' in their drinks, but it also was risky. I wasn't really as much of a risk-taker anymore. Well, Technically taking risks for me was just my SQUIP making me seem cool... But, whatever.

Mr. Reyes had presented us with a few ideas for the spring play. Apparently, he felt bad that we never technically got to finish our production, and this was his way of making it up to us... Our options were: A parody so that way we didn't need to reserve any rights to anything; A collection of old Fairy Tales and other Public Domain properties, for the same reason: Or a completely original story/story collection.

We chose the original story collection, with some room for parody. Some of the other kids also took creative writing courses or practiced other arts outside of theatre. And while the sign-up period had technically passed, Mr. Reyes said that he was going to keep auditions open for a different period as right now all of us were technically doing pre-production work that normally would be solely handled by him. We had a little more time to work with since the spring play wasn't until May, and it was still early February.

I wasn't really writing my own story, but Jenna was... She was actually a really good writer. She was doing a story about a robot left alone with its programing running. I'd offer input here or there, but I wasn't sure how useful it really was. Again, my few splurges into creative writer weren't really something I was totally proud of. But, Jenna seemed to take what I had to say seriously. I guess since I was a "General Audience" placeholder there was something of value I could offer. Jeremy and Christine were writing their own story too, but they were still in the early stages and didn't want me to see anything yet. Other than that I think Jackson Marks and Mark Jackson were throwing something together. They were on Tech and Set Crew last time, but they actually seemed up for performing if it came down to it. I didn't talk to them much and they seemed afraid of me though, so most of that was just observation.

Mr. Reyes was in the background, practicing on a Piano... He seemed kind of rusty. Like he hadn't practiced in a while. But, it wasn't terrible. The occasions he got a note wrong made it better when he went back and finally figured it out. He had a look of focus on him I'd never seen before, or maybe I just always missed. He looked like he was having as much fun as the rest of us for once. Like He found a spark he lost in him years ago.

It was nice. It was a side of play rehearsal I never really took the time to look at when My SQUIP made me join with Jake and the others last time. Before I was just here out of obligation, now I was here because... I guess I wanted to. I got to see that side where everyone was putting in all the effort and time to make a great show with decent writing, good direction, and even a live musical score this time around. It was something I felt a little... Alienated by. 

Mr. Reyes still made some work for me so I felt included. He asked me to paint some paper signs for an upcoming back sale to raise funds, and potentially some set design work. He caught me doodling in one of my notebooks in homeroom and I guess took me as the artsy type... My hands hadn't completely finished healing, but the painting was somewhat lax and Mr. Reyes made it clear that I didn't have to worry too much about them looking super neat.

Jenna taps her pencil in my view. "You alright, Rich?"

I break away. "Y-yeah just..." Thinking? Staring? Existing? I'm not really sure what I was doing. I'd stopped painting at got lost in my head. That seemed to be happening a lot recently.

Jenna doesn't seem to get confused. She stares down. "You're being hard on yourself again, aren't you?"

I nod. "Yeah... I'm kinda happy I get to do something with this sign but I dunno if I'm good enough at writing or music or art to offer too much else..."

Jenna nods. "Well, you've been helping keep the morale up."

I blinked. "I have?"

"Yeah, you've been pretty encouraging of everyone else and what they're doing. I think that's just as important of a contribution as anything else... Besides, you seemed like you had fun acting during rehearsals last time around."

I rubbed my arm. My SQUIP was a big help, though I did enjoy some of it... Yet, "I don't think I'm gonna be front and center on stage unless I absolutely have to. I don't feel like drawing too much attention to myself right now."

Jenna gives an understanding nod. "I wouldn't want to either."

We stay quiet for the remainder of theatre Until we're packing up and Jeremy and Christine pull both of us aside. We know what it's about by this point, But we all are somewhat defeated by this point. Even with Jenna, Who is very in the know about things, we had no idea what we were looking for.

Jenna, Jeremy, Christine, and I all meet up at the end of the hall after theatre, exchanging glances.

"...Are we sure we wanna tell him?" I ask.

Jeremy nods. "We weren't going to keep it from him forever, you know that. Plus, with how bad our personal search has been going I think we might need a few extra hands." 

"Not to mention Mr. Reyes is a faculty member," Jenna adds, "He'd be an ideal target for a SQUIP. We should get to him first."

Christine is fidgeting a bit nervously. "Well, We gotta actually tell him... Right?"

We look over at Mr. Reyes, blissfully unaware of the bombshell we're about to drop on him. He's still playing his piano a little, content with figuring out the keys and scales... Or whatever Pianos are about. We check again to make sure Mark and Jackson aren't anywhere and walk over... Not daring to break our formation.

Mr. Reyes doesn't notice us until we're right up next to him. He doesn't have any particular emotion on his face. "You kids need something?"

Christine takes the first part. "We do, actually... And it's kind of important."

His demeanor changes immediately. He sits up a little straighter and gives us his full attention. "Alright, Take your time if you need to. I'm all ears." 

Christine's fidgeting continues, and I decide to take over when it becomes clear she might not be able to anymore. "You have a super computer in your head called a SQUIP, they're the things that caused that freak out at the winter play- not ecstasy- and you should avoid Mountain Dew if you can."

He blinks for a moment, staring at us and taking it all in. 

"...Okay."

Jeremy starts stammering."Look I know it sounds crazy but- Wait what?" The answer isn't the one any of us were expecting.

Mr. Reyes looks between us, "You kids really think I thought you were that concerned over a GameBoy? Which, by the way, Mark Jackson had in homeroom that morning you three helped me tidy up."

Christine tilted her head. "Wait if you knew why didn't you say something?"

The teacher shrugs. "I figured if you kids were dancing around it so much, it wasn't something you felt comfortable talking about yet. And though I'm normally supposed to tell the rest of the faculty if we see something off about our students... I somehow knew that you kids would tell me on your own time if I gave you your space."

I rub my arm. "I guess that means the Sync is still affecting you, too."

He nods. "How many of these um, SQUIPs, are there?"

I gulp. "At least 500. Maybe more, It's my fault they're out there and I can't even remember-"

He pats my shoulder. "It's not your fault. I'm not sure where you got them from, but if you had that many of them and if they're dangerous enough to give 8 people seizures and put one of them in a Coma, Then I think it stands to say you didn't realize what you had until it had you wrapped around its fingers... Now, do you have an Idea of where they might've ended up?"

We shake our heads. "We thought maybe you could help with that." Jenna mumbles.

He huffs, tapping his chin. "... I'll look into things. I presume you've checked out any of the um, usual suspects for drugs?"

Christine nods. "None of them knew anything about 'em. They said they thought the cops went off with it but we have reasons to think otherwise. We saw one on the sidewalk that day we helped you clean out the stage and we all agreed even if the ones in the shoebox weren't on we think they're too smart to let 500 of themselves collect dust in an unsolved cases locker."

He nods. "Okay. Thank you all for letting me know. I know you're all very concerned, but please go home and try to rest well tonight. I'll do some looking around where I can and keep you all updated."

"Thanks, Mr. Reyes." We all said in a somewhat staggered unison. He turns back to his piano, but this time seems to be packing things up. I feel a wave of relief wash over everyone. The four of us walk outside; Jenna makes it to her car, Christine's Dad is already waiting outside... But Mr. Heere isn't, well, here.

Mr. Reyes comes out not long after us... He asked if we wanted him to stay after we told him Jeremy's dad was running behind. We said it was fine. Some might find it weird. And I'd be lying if I didn't say I was cautious about it. But I trusted Mr. Reyes more than I would a complete stranger. And so far he hadn't betrayed that trust so I saw no reason to think anything of it. It was just his nature I think, or it was now. 

Thankfully, we aren't waiting for very long. Mr. Heere pulled into the school parking lot and we piled into the well-heated car. He looks a little tired, which I expected since he ran a little late, but he keeps a smile on his face. He and Mr. Reyes have a brief conversation that I don't pay attention to in favor of getting Jeremy and I's backpacks squished in just enough that they won't rub against my wounds when I take a seat beside them.

Eventually, Mr. Heere pulls out of the parking lot and turns his attention to us. "Hey, kiddos. How were your days?"

"Good." Jeremy responds first, "You?"

"Fine." Mr. Heere says, "Rich?"

I yawn. "Alright, actually." It'd been one of my better days anyway. It didn't start out great, dad woke up in another one of his moods (a few extra bottles, some shattered)... But in terms of school people had mostly started to leave me be. Jenna got some different rumor going around about one of the faculty members being a spy and that was the end of it. I settle into the backseat of the car. I learned quickly that unlike most car trips, being in the Back seat of the Heere's didn't mean you were left out of the conversation. And I was glad for that because it quickly turned to food.

"So, you boys have an Idea for dinner?"

Jeremy looks back at me. "We didn't really talk about it... You want anything, Richie?"

I thought for a moment. "...Um... Soup maybe? I like soup..." I don't usually get to pick out dinners. I usually just ate whatever the Heere's were making when I went over, so having the pressure of picking out dinner was a little much. And I mostly ate canned foods or TV meals at home anyways because it was all Dad could afford. I did like soup though. Soup and I were well acquainted.

"Soup eh? Anything specific?"

I twiddle my thumbs a little. "No, I'm not very um... Picky." I couldn't really afford to be, even if I hated certain foods. Mr. Heere gives me a glance as he pulls up to a red light.

"I know a pretty good Potato Soup recipe, does that sound alright with you?" I think he could tell I wasn't sure what to pick out and was trying to help. I pick at my hands a little, unable to respond. Mr. Heere doesn't push too much, but he doesn't stop talking either. "You can take time to think about it, I was just offering a suggestion. If you want something else that's alright. I have to go to the store today either way."

I nod. Thinking over it... I'd never had potato soup before, believe it or not. I think they served some in the deli Steven used to work at, but it always went quickly so he never snuck home any leftovers of that. Usually, we had a beef stew or chicken soup straight from the overstocked cans, maybe cream of mushroom once or twice (I always hated it).

"...I think I wanna try it." I mumble, "If it's not too much trouble."

"Alright, Rich... I'll buy some bread bowls too then. We can pretend to be fancy tonight." He decides. I feel up for that because, well, it meant more food. I had some lunch today but I was pretty hungry overall. I usually only get that lunch if I'm not with the Heeres, sometimes it's my own fault because I get out of bed later than I should and sometimes it's just because the old bastard didn't feel like getting up and buying groceries. Apparently, Mr. Heere used to be a little like that, minus the alcoholism and violent tendencies. But, He seems to have cleaned himself up pretty well. 

I could be jealous of Jeremy, maybe I should be, that his dad actually took the time to better himself. But It wouldn't change my position in life very much. I still had an offer to run away and live with them, and I wasn't sure what still held me back, but some part of me wanted to believe that He'd suddenly start doing the same.

"You know he won't." My reflection sneers from the window.

Yeah, I know. It's nice to pretend though.

"Pretending is all you can really do, huh? Just like when we had the SQUIP."

Shut up, it's different.

"How? How is it any different? All that's different is it's not _telling_ you to pretend. So Really, It's worse isn't it?"

Before I can answer it Mr. Heere calls my name. I look at him, and he seemed like he had asked a question. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Oh I just asked if you wanted any desserts, too?"

I think for a moment. "... Maybe a tub of ice cream? Nothing too big or fancy... Just some vanilla."

Mr. Heere nods. "Okay." The car makes a turn and before I know it we're near a store. I look over at the sign, and to a double-take... 

This was the store Steven used to work at. 

I wondered if any of the staff would recognize me. 

I didn't really want them to... Jeremy knew my deadname because of my hospital clipboard but Mr. Heere didn't. And obviously, the guy was accepting but I didn't really want him to learn what it was right now. 

Plus, it was the store _Steven_ used to work at. 

"Richie?"

"Rich? Kiddo? You with us?"

I try to speak but words don't come out... My throat closes up and I just end up staring between them helplessly. Jeremy shoves his phone over, there's a little chat app he has for situations like this open. I quickly select a pop-up that says "Non-Verbal" and flash it over. They both instantly switch gears.

"Okay. Could you tell us what's wrong?"

I pause, not even sure where to start. I first try typing about Steven, but I don't like that and erase it... Then I try typing about my other concerns but the more I think about them in my head the more stupid they seem to me.

"Jeez, way to worry them over something as trivial as the location of a **store,** Richard."

I shake my head... And, well, unfortunately, my reflection's explanation is the only one I can give. _I don't want to go into this store_ , I type. I pass Jeremy's phone back over, and Mr. Heere reads it.

"Alright, soldier... Do you wanna just wait in the car?"

I nod.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Jeremy asks.

I pause. I wasn't in the mood for listening to my reflection, so I nod.

Mr. Heere lets out a breath. "I won't be long, lock the doors, I'll leave the keys in so you two don't freeze to death." He ruffles his son's hair. "If you think of anything else you may want just text me, but I probably won't be more than 30 minutes." And with that, he leaves the car and walks out to the store.

Jeremy watches him leave for a moment, as though making sure he won't be turning around to grab a forgotten wallet or coupons or something. Then his attention is on me again. He averts eye-contact like he usually does, and I'm somewhat grateful because I'm not sure I'd be able to keep it.

"It's Steven, right? I only heard that much, I promise... Do you wanna tell me about it?" 

His question stings a little... I shake my head, curling up enough to bury my face.

"Can I put my arm around you? You just seem like you might need a hug." 

I think about it for a moment and give a slow nod. He's very gentle, I can barely even tell his arm is there until it relaxes over my shoulders and I find myself in that Rich-shape gap again. I take a few deep breaths, and finally, start to relax a little myself. My eyes stare at the slightly grimey carpet, making little shapes out of the dirt smudges and coffee stains. 

Jeremy starts humming a little, and that helps keep my mind off of my anxieties for a bit. But no matter what I try my brain just falls back to my brother. Back to Steven Fuckin' Goranski. Part of me almost wishes I didn't miss him. SQUIP or not, he left me to fend for myself. He barely contacted me for the entire school year. He thought I could "defend myself" fine and never thought twice about it. 

Jeremy seems to shift a little, and I remember he can probably hear me thinking because of our sync. He seems upset... But, in a sympathetic way. He just wants to help is all.

Still, I can't help but feel upset that he has to hear my negative thoughts like this. My own arm slowly comes up, grabs Jeremy's sleeve, and just holds it. The angle is awkward, but I don't think either of us particularly cared about that.

Thank You.

Jeremy seems a little surprised but just ruffles my hair. "Yeah, Anytime buddy." He looks over, noticing my headphones poking out of my backpack. "Hey, do you want me to put your CD in?"

I nod. I was almost done with Nimrod now, surprised to say. I had just one more song left to go, I figured one last rundown of all the songs in the correct order was a given. It'd help me part with it when I swapped out the disks later. Jeremy digs through my pack, pulls out my player, and pops the disk into the car stereo. The volume gets adjusted to a comfortable setting and the two of us just sit back and listen.

I notice about halfway through the second song that Jeremy's patting his thigh to the rhythm. He seems embarrassed when he realizes, but I start drumming my fingers along the front seat in solidarity. There's a smile on his face, and we both continue to vibe along to the songs until His dad returns with the groceries.

* * *

Nights when I wasn't with the Heeres usually went one of two ways.

1) My dad was in a good mood

2) My dad was in a bad mood, but I can keep myself locked in my room.

The third kind of night was "My dad is in a bad mood and I need to get away", which used to be rare with the SQUIP... But ever since my dad got out of the hospital he realized he can be pushier. I started having a lot of 2's all of the sudden as opposed to 1's.

Unfortunately, tonight was the third type of night. One where I'd sort of pop up on the streets with only vague recollections and a sore shoulder or two. I look down at myself and realize I haven't really got much on me... School bag, Todd, CD player, and...

A guitar?

I don't have one of those.

It's at my feet, in front of a random house. There's a piece of paper that says "free" taped onto it. I take a peek inside of the case. It's a fairly nice instrument. A bit old, but sturdy. It just looked like it needed a string or two replaced. I keep glancing at the instrument, then sigh. I should just go to Mr. Heere's, I remind myself. It'd be good for me. He could call someone to get me out of my dad's place. I think it's time. I catch my reflection all warped in the metal latch on the guitar's casing.

"I don't think he'll be of much help right now." He says.

"Why not?"

"He said the next time your dad had a bad night he'd call someone, but you said you didn't do it then and there because you couldn't remember what happened... AND you still don't."

I shake my head. "Yeah but, I'd be breaking my promise."

He rolls his eyes. "Since when has an adult ever kept a promise for you?"

"He's nice to me though, It'll be different-"

"Nice to you? Of course he's nice to you! You're friends with his son. If you were anyone else he wouldn't give a shit."

"Don't talk about Mr. Heere that way." I snap.

He mocks me, "Ooo Don't talk about Mr. Heere that way. He's not like my dad, he feeds me junk food and lets me stay over so I can bring that tall-ass son of his' GPA down with mine," He starts to laugh, "Give me a fucking break!"

I'm about to yell at him when a car passes by... Then backs up. Before I see the driver, I recognize that it's a PT Cruiser. The window rolls down, revealing-

"Michael?"

Michael smiles. "Rich? Hey! Whatcha doing out here this late?" Somehow, I can tell he's not all that good. I know it's not the SQUIP, Michael never got one, but there's something in his voice that sounds off... And, given that and the fact that I don't feel comfortable giving Michael Mell my whole life story, I decided to leave out a few details.

"I was um, Heading up to the Heere's... You just leave?"

He seems off-put, tapping his steering wheel a few times. "Yeah, I um... I did. Uh... You..." He rubs his neck nervously. We've talked since our not so romantic date, so I know it's not that.

"Is something wrong?" I ask.

Michael takes a breath. "Not really... I mean, I kinda wanna give you a ride-"

"Oh?"

"-But um, let's just say Jeremy kind of hates my guts right now and I don't think he'd appreciate me stopping by after-" He checks the clock on his stereo, "3 minutes so..."

I stop for a bit, tapping my toe. "Well um, I was just kind of..." I glance at the guitar, "Looking for a place to practice. My old man doesn't like it when I play during the game." I wasn't even sure if there was a game on tonight. But, Michael takes it like an Advil. 

"Yeah? Um, Well. I was gonna just head home. My mama's making dinner, and she usually makes extra cause we're big eaters. Do you wanna come over?"

I think about it for a moment. I guess I wouldn't mind that. I could just tell Mr. Heere about what happened later. Yeah. I'll go over tomorrow...

"Y'know, normally I'd ask you to take me out for lunch before I meet your parents but, I guess we already did that part." I joke. It succeeded in drawing a laugh, and I set the new guitar in the backseat. I had my doubts about it. Sure, it was free, but I wasn't sure if I'd even be able to find the time to play it... Maybe it'd help me not drink anymore. Instead of giving in I could try playing it as a distraction. Yeah, Okay... I was gonna give that a go.

Michael was uncharacteristically quiet for most of the ride (which wasn't very long). It made me wonder what happened back there, but I decided to not pry. If Michael (or Jeremy for that matter) wanted to tell me something, I figured they would. I just stared out the window and picked at my bandages a little, thankfully I was spared from my reflection by the lighting conditions. Still, I kind of missed Michael's car-chatter from those few times I caught rides with him.

I wished I was at the Heere's, but I appreciated that Michael was letting me stay over with basically no questions asked. Though, I couldn't help but wonder what he could've done to make Jeremy not want to be around him... It didn't sit right with me. Maybe given how the SQUIP stuff happened, it should be expected that they still have a lot to work through, but this felt like a step back from that. I hold my hands together, taking a few deep breaths. I supposed there was no point in wondering about it too much. Michael was respecting my need for quiet, I guess for now I should respect his need for privacy.

Michael lives just a few neighborhoods down from Me and Jeremy, but it's one of the nicer ones in the area. His house is a bit bigger than Jeremy and mines, but compared to Jake or Chloe's houses it's nothing super extravagant. It's not expensive housing, just well kept. It's nice though, and even has a double garage that Michael can park into. I'm careful to kick my shoes off at the front door after seeing Michael do so. He calls out to his moms, letting them know that He's home and there's a dinner guest, then leads me down to his basement (which is also his bedroom). I hesitate to enter for a moment, but Michael tugs me along and assures me it doesn't really look like a basement.

And, it doesn't. It's been totally decked out in nerd shit. Old Nintendo posters, a full stereo system, two mini-fridges (one of which I'm sure is filled with various expired beverages), and a PS1 with a few cans of ginger ale resting on the lid. There's a bookshelf that alternated between old movies, video games, and comics on each shelf. And to top it off, the ceiling lined with a strand of rave lights (though there's a few normal bulbs too).

It's basically every geek's wet dream.

Michael looks back. "Weird, right?"

I shake my head. "Not weird, but it's very um... You." I kind of could see why he and Jeremy almost always went to his house. The room felt like sensory overload condensed into a single location. I wondered how much of it Michael bought himself and how much was gifted to him. I'd presume his family was middle class, so Maybe Michael just knew where to find good deals.

He digs around in a bedside drawer, pulling out a little baggie. "Hey, you mind if I light up?"

I tilt my head. "Your moms might?"

He shrugs. "They're fine with it as long as I do it in the house and whoever I'm having over is fine."

I rub my arm. "I um, I'd rather you didn't... My lungs are still kind of fucked up from the fire." Michael frowns and puts away the weed, then he pats a spot next to him on his bed. I take it, setting the guitar and my bag just out of the way of the stairs. We just end up staring at his ceiling, at one point he takes a remote and starts to gently play some Bob Marley over the speakers.

"So, Why were you really out?" He asks. I freeze, staring at him wordlessly. "C'mon, I know you don't play guitar... And the 'Free' Sign is still on the case. Spill man."

I set my hands on my stomach, feeling some of the bandages under my shirt. "I don't wanna talk about it."

He shrugs. "Fine. You wanna play video games or something?"

I shake my head. "I kinda wanna just lay down and chat if it's all the same to you."

"Alright, totally fair."

I shut my eyes, just letting my body relax a little. Michael seemed to take the hint and stayed quiet... I guess that sounded rude but I needed a little time to just let my head run itself out without anyone asking me something. I could smell something nice upstairs, separate from the constant musk of pot that had attached itself into the basement. Probably whatever dinner was being made. I could feel my stomach nip at me, but thankfully it didn't growl.

"So, uh, do you usually take walks at night like that?"

I think over my response carefully. "Sometimes... It's better than just being cramped up in my room all day, and it keeps me stimulated."

Michael nods. "I would think theatre would too."

"Well yeah, but theatre is indoors... I need outdoor stimulation every now and then to keep me from going crazy y'know? I spent a month and a half crammed inside a hospital, the outdoors is something I'm not taking for granted again."

"Fair, fair..." He hums for a bit, "You're probably the only guy I know who walks instead of driving."

"I don't have a car... Or a license. I don't got a job and School's only a couple of blocks away. Not like I've got many places to be driving."

Michael stretches his body. "I guess I thought your SQUIP would've wanted you to drive. Cause it's cooler than taking the bus."

"Walking and Jogging was part of my workout regime, and usually I just caught rides with Jake or Brooke or Whoever... And if I couldn't I'd steal my dad's car and refill the tank before I got home."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense... I thought you said you didn't have a license?"

"You don't need a license when you got an autopilot in your head."

He cringes, then stares back at the ceiling. I think for a moment... I'm not normally one to pry, and I know it's not the SQUIP, but I can't help but notice how upset Michael seems. I tap my stomach for a moment.

"Are you okay?"

Michael looks at me, and mulls for a bit. "...Yeah. I mean, I'm not but... It's kinda my own fault."

I bite my lip. "It's Jeremy, right?"

Michael lets out a long sigh. "I asked if he wanted to watch Bill and Ted and he kind of got... I dunno what I expected. I thought maybe we could just go back. I thought we could just apologize and pretend it never happened. I thought he'd be better in 2 months, but..." 

I raise a brow. Jeremy's SQUIP looked like Keanu Reeves, he told me in the hospital, so It seemed like a no-brainer he wouldn't be up for watching a film with him. "...Better?" I ask.

"Yeah, you know... Over it? Like, he's with Christine, and He's seeing a therapist, and things are better with his dad. I just thought maybe he'd be over it a little."

I feel something bubble up in my chest. "Over it? You think someone can just get over being traumatized like that?"

Michael looks at me, quiet. "Hey wait-"

"Dude! That shit takes time! I mean, look at me!"

"Well, yeah but that's different."

"Different how?" I demanded.

"Well, You burned down a house, Jeremy never-"

I place my hands on his shoulders, glaring at him with some emotion I've never felt before. "Jeremy would've burned down a house too if he didn't have you there to help him... Although now that I'm hearing some of the stuff you say to him I'm not sure if you're helping has been helpful."

Michael's face scrunches up. "Look I've done what I can to support him I was the one who told him people go crazy trying to get them out of their heads! I'm like Always over at their house- I've been trying to help him take his mind off of it! I got over the bathroom thing already I just..."

I blink... Suddenly it all makes sense. I take a breath. "Look, knowing Jeremy, that's the last thing he wants is to ignore it completely."

Michael rolls onto his side. "I know Jeremy better than you... It's in the past. We can just move on from it and focus on-."

"He can't... He has to live with what that thing did to him and what it made him do for the rest of his life... You know he hears it sometimes? Fuck, didn't you come over to calm him down once because he thought it turned back on? Plus I can't imagine how he feels knowing he hurt your feelings the way he did."

"...That was a month ago."

I sigh. "Look, Michael. I don't wanna yell or fight, I'm kind of trying to avoid that. But, y'know... I think you tend to assume people always are on the same page as you without talking to them about it."

He curls up more. 

"I'm not saying this to make you feel bad, I'm saying this because- as an outsider- I think You and Jeremy both still have shit you need to process through, and I think you both wanted to do it in different ways but didn't really communicate that very well. Did you ever think that Jeremy asked you over to talk about it bu-"

"I can't."

I stop. Michael looks at me, then at his feet. "...I don't know what to say to him anymore. What am I supposed to say? 'Yeah, this thing could just turn off my legs whenever it wanted.' 'one time it told me that I made it suicidal even though it's a supercomputer powered by my brainwaves' 'This thing used to shock me whenever I tried to touch myself.' 'Oh, sorry?' Is that comforting? What do you even say to something like that? How are you supposed to tell a person things are gonna be okay after that?"

I thought for a moment... But, I didn't really know either. I guess me and Jeremy could always talk about it easily because we both sort of lived through the same things, But I never considered how someone who didn't have a SQUIP was supposed to do that. Michael had it pretty well off, compared to the two of us, too. Maybe being hurt like we had just wasn't something that he could relate to at all. I thought maybe he would, given what I heard about Halloween, but then again these instances weren't fully comparable.

I sigh, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you should focus less on what you _say,_ and more on what you _do._ Don't just distract him, listen to him. You don't have to tell him that It'll be better... No one is ever going to know a phrase that makes trauma instantly better. It **doesn't** get better in one phrase. If it did, I'd have been cured months ago. Just, Let him know you're actually _there_ and not just there to like, use his Nintendo controller... Y'know? Distractions can help sometimes but it shouldn't be the only way you deal with something."

Michael sighs, he sits up a little more, rubbing his eyes. "...Okay." We stay a bit quiet, but it's somewhat needed. It's a bit tense but said tension starts to dissipate after a little while. 

... Michael's plan for coping seemed to just be getting high. His own little distraction. Was this better? I wasn't sure. I could keep him from getting high but I couldn't keep myself from getting drunk If I wanted to. Though, Michael wasn't an addict like I was... And He seemed less frazzled than he had been earlier.

I let out a yawn, popping a spot in my back. And just as I do, there's a call from upstairs. "Michael and Guest, Dinner is on the table!"

"Be up in a minute, Mama!" Michael sits up slowly and pops his back out too. "C'mon, I think you'll like what we have." He sticks his hand out for me, which I'm a bit grateful for because I was sort of stuck in that position. 

"Um, thanks by the way... I dunno if I feel better but, I think I needed that a little?"

"Uh, yeah, no problem."

He pulls me up, and I follow him back upstairs into their kitchen. The floor space is a lot more open, it's less cramped than The Heere's (And much less cramped than mine). But, it wasn't empty either. A few bright walls and nice paintings gave a pop of color that reflected off of the more neutral-colored furnishings. There was a wedding photo that I could see hanging in what looked like a den-space. I could see Michael and a Younger boy standing in the frame too, right in front of his mothers... No, wait, the younger one was Michael I think. I recall him mentioning he was the flower-boy at the wedding and the younger one is absolutely smothered in rose-petals. I guess Michael had an older brother (?), too. 

The delicious scent of food continues through the house. I can tell just by the air that it has a lot of spices or herbs or some other seasoning in it. I knew Michael had Filipino and Ecuadorian roots, something he'd brought up for a family-history project during sophomore year (I can't recall what I presented on. I think My SQUIP "Dug through some family archives and found a few noteworthy figures"; but it said it like "Your family is all bums, I'm going to make shit up for you so no one finds out.") I'm not sure what's on the plate, or where it comes from, but it looked too good to pass up. I wait to make sure it's okay to eat first, and when everyone else starts I take no time trying it...

It's really spicy.

Like, Really spicy.

I've never been able to hold spice that well (SQUIPless, anyways), so maybe I should've expected it. It's not bad, it has a lot of other flavors too, but I do have to have a good helping of water between bites. Michael seems to notice, and quietly pushes his own glass towards me when I start to run low.

"So, Um, Richard is it? What brings you here tonight?" One of his mothers asks.

I swallow my food. "I was walking back home from practicing my guitar in the park, Michael was driving by and asked if I wanted to come over," I say. Michael, of course, knew this wasn't really true. But He also knew it wasn't something I was going to talk about and confirmed this.

"Yeah. He likes his guitar walks."

His other mom nods her head. "I see. So you're going to spend the night then?"

I nod, another bite of food in my mouth. His Mama laughs.

"I see someone likes his food."

I nod. "I'm short, I lose sustenance quickly." I was a bit sickly when I got out of the hospital. I'd lost a lot of muscle-mass in those weeks I was stuck in a bed. I'd gained a bit of my weight back after (I mostly thank Mr. Heere's cooking for that), but I still had a larger appetite. Maybe it was the new freedom of getting to eat what I wanted all the time and not just behind closed doors.

His Mama smiles. "Eat as much as you want, I made extra."

...

It's the only time I ever stayed over at the Mells. But it was a pleasant stay. I slept on the opposite side of Michael's king, and even though he caught me reaching for Todd he couldn't care less about it. My reflection was less pleased. It stared at me through a standing mirror just across from me. It didn't speak. It was too exhausted to talk, But its face said it all...

"You told him not to distract himself or Jeremy, yet here you are..."

I nestle Todd into my chin, squeezing my eyes shut. I didn't trust Michael like I trusted the Heere's. That was all. I was fine. As I doze off I realize that my red-streak is starting to fade again... 

I'll dye it later. Yeah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! What a chapter huh?
> 
> Once more, Comments are always appreciated and encouraged :)


	12. Jinx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm hexed with regrets and bad luck  
> So keep your distance, it's rubbing off  
> Or you will be damned to spend your life in hell  
> Or earth with me tangled at your feet  
> ...  
> I'm a curse hanging around you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until tomorrow but I finished proofreading and formatting this one so y'all get it a day early. I'm also gonna give a Trigger Warning for the opening, as it's a little more intense than how the rest of the fic has been so far. 
> 
> TW: House fire, suffocation, death/near-death experience, nightmares. (if you think something else should be added let me know)

_I feel fire pricking at my skin, nipping and snapping all around me. Electricity continuously pulses through my body, Hitting every nerve in my body in just the wrong way that makes it excruciating. I hear a wall behind me collapse as the smoke slowly overwhelms my senses to the point of gagging._ _My SQUIP glitches above me, staring at me with that disappointed, condescending look it always has. I slowly push myself off of the ground... Until I notice something out of the corner of my eye. There's a body under one of the beams from the floor above us, pinned down by the waist. I glance for just a few moments before I realize who it is-_

_"Jeremy?"_

_I tried to scream, but I was so choked out that it just came out raspy and nearly inaudible against the screams upstairs. I claw my way over, my whole body threatening to collapse from the pain. By the time I reach him, just barely have the energy to grab him by the shoulder. He's unconscious. No matter how hard I pull, I can't break him free from the debris._

_Then, suddenly, it's not just Jeremy..._

_It's Christine; her dress going up in a blazing inferno, eating away at her skin while all she can do is watch in panic._

_It's Jenna; who's phone overheated to the point of exploding and now has blood dripping from her hands._

_It's Michael; pounding on a stuck door upstairs, pleading and begging for "Anyone, please anyone, just help!"_

_It's Brooke; in so much shock she can't tell she's cornered by the flames, slowly suffocating._

_It's Chloe; Too drunk to realize the danger she's in, barely able to walk around, mumbling something as tears slowly fall from her face._

_It's Jake; who tried to make his way towards the top of the house, maybe to jump from a window, but made a wrong step and fell through the floor, his leg bent at a bad angle._

_It's... Me. Just staring on at all of this. Realizing I caused this. Realizing I was the one who did all of this. Burning away in agony, unable to stop the domino effect I caused.  
_

...

_..._

...

_You see now, why I try to keep those away from him? He can't confront everything at once. He needs time._

"So? It's just a crummy nightmare. Big Deal."

_Exactly, a very big deal. It stresses him out way too much._  
_If he was carrying his baggage all on his own, he'd have so many breakdowns and panic attacks that he might not ever make progress._

"I don't see why I have to take it, though."

_It's out of my control for the moment... I don't know why either, I suppose because you take so much after what he became two years ago._  
_That part of his life is so tied to your identity that taking it away isn't possible right now._

"So, he gets to keep all the good parts of his memories and I have to get stuck with us nearly burning to death and all those shocks and everything else?"

_I know it's not ideal, but until one of us figures out what is going on I'm afraid that's all that we can do._  
_I've tried to take that burden off of you, many times, I can't for some reason._

"Fucking Peachy."

_I understand you're upset, but I've done all that I can._  
_Now, would you stop taking out all your frustrations on him? It isn't his fault-_

"As far as I can tell, he's the reason I exist in the first place. And Unless I get a good fucking 'otherwise', I'm gonna do as I please. You can't stop me from existing."

_I suppose not. I just wish you made better choices with it._

"Shut up. You aren't Steven, quit acting so much like him."

_My purpose is to keep us safe, even from you if I must. I can't help it if that's what Steven chose as well._

"He _didn't_ choose us. He choose _himself._ We're on our own. You _keep us safe_? Why didn't you keep us safe from him?"

_..._

"...That's what I thought."

* * *

"You're not using enough, it's gonna wash out and look orange."

"Shut up, I'm not done with it yet." I snap. I was currently in the bathroom, redying my hair while my dad slept in. The red had started to fade again, It needed it. Surprisingly, my Reflection didn't make any obvious remarks about it.

"Eh, I like the Red..."

"And here I was beginning to think you didn't like anything."

My reflection rolls his eyes. "I like things, I just can't do the things I like because I'm trapped here with you every second of my existence."

I put more of the Dye into the plastic bowl and spread it in with the brush. "Well it's not exactly peachy being stuck with you either so, the feeling is mutual." I wasn't quite sure why I was doing this, personally. Both continuing to talk to what I _presume_ is a hallucination and redying my hair. Maybe they gave me some sense of normalcy. Maybe I also liked the red... Or maybe I just had it too long to want it gone right away. Either way, I just couldn't completely get rid of it yet.

"If you get rid of it there's like, nothing."

"And we're back to insulting me. Cool." I comb the last of the dye through and wrap off the section. 30 minutes till it's done. I glance at my reflection. "What is your deal anyway? You don't have to talk to me if you hate me so much."

"...I can't leave, remember? Doomed to your soul or whatever."

"So you're like, a ghost?"

"I dunno what I am, but sure if it makes it easier for you to process," He stretches out, getting comfortable, and shakes his hands; "Boo, I'm here to haunt you."

"Well, you're good at that part." I take another long look at my reflection... Ever since he got more, well- him- he started looking less like me. He has my bandages, but the few times I'd seen him without them, he lacked any actual burns or lacerations. It was like how I looked before the fire... I still think he could be some remnant of my SQUIP, it was just projecting how I used to look as some punishment.

"Again, whatever makes it easier for you."

"So you aren't my SQUIP?"

"If I knew what I was, I'd try to be anything other than your reflection. But, I don't. So-" He blows a raspberry and makes a crude-looking arm gesture.

"Well, what do you think you are?"

He smirks. "The funny one."

I huff. It was kind of pointless trying to reason with him. I don't know why I kept trying to.

"That one's easy, You're lonely despite the fact that you have plenty of friends you can talk to... Oh wait, they're just taking pity on us, that's right."

I stare at a little analog clock we keep on the wall, 30 minutes couldn't pass any slower. I thought talking was supposed to speed these things up. It's at times like this I wish I had a phone again. At least I could entertain myself with my socials or some crummy app instead of just listening to my reflection blabber on and on.

"Rich you and I both know if you had a phone you'd be just as bored and have just as hard of a time ignoring me."

"I guess," I try to think of something else, "Would it even matter if I redyed this? For a _reflection,_ you barely look like me anyway."

"It's the one thing that fades."

"Huh, weird." I guess it was technically the one thing we totally shared... Maybe that's how it worked. "Anything else you wanna say while you're here?"

He pauses for a moment, looking around. "This bathroom is like a fucking black hole, it's sucking the fun outta everything."

After that, I'm left with a brief bit of quiet... I stare at him and he stares back. I notice my hair has gotten a bit longer in the last few months, but I'm not totally opposed to it yet. I just kind of wanted to look different from the SQUIP me for now. It's weird. There was a time when having it this long made me dysphoric, but I was somewhat more willing to welcome it for now. These brief musings last long enough that I'm able to finally wash out the excess dye and look at my handiwork. It looks alright I think. My SQUIP would've called it passable...

I pause for a moment, wondering if I actually still care about what it thinks.

"-------! Are you done in there yet? I need to shave!"

"Just a minute, Pa..." I quickly clean up the mess, stashing my dye into the medicine cabinet and throwing away all the trash that was still strewn about. Once I'm done, I trade spots with my dad, who just glares at me. He clearly has a hangover, so I just stay quiet... I must've been too slow, though, because he gives me a very rough shove out and shuts the door without a further word. I hit the adjacent wall but bit back any expressions of pain. I didn't need to make it worse than it was.

I walk into my room and try to think of something to occupy myself... Jeremy had already told me he wasn't gonna be available today. He didn't say why, but if it had anything to do with him and Michael fighting then I wasn't going to bother him too much. He might need some alone time right now, and I could understand that... I sent out messages to Christine and Jenna as well. I did get responses but they weren't gonna be around either (Jenna and Brooke had a date, and Christine had some family thing going on).

This didn't really leave me with many options to occupy my time with. I stare at the guitar... Maybe I could find someplace to practice for a couple of hours and grab lunch. I had homework, too, I could bring some of that along with me I guess. It was still pretty cold out, not really the best weather to be outdoors for most of the day in... But I was at a loss for things to do. And I definitely wasn't staying home while my Dad was like this... Too many small things that could set him off. I slide one of Steven's old flannels over my shirt and grab my orange jacket off the doorknob. It kind of makes me look like I'm wearing a really small skirt, but I'm not too bothered by this either. My SQUIP would've made a fuss about me not passing, but I think I still looked enough like a boy for now.

"Not like it stops people from misgendering us anyways."

I stare in my mirror. "You coming along too?"

"Did you forget the part where I'm stuck here?"

I sling my backpack over my less burned shoulder and pick up my guitar case in my hands. I keep my wallet in my breast pocket and go out the front door this time. Pa's still in the bathroom when I leave, otherwise I would've used my window. I'm met with sun, but the air is still a bit brisk. I take a nice deep breath, finalizing my decision, and walk out of the house... It felt like I was spending less and less time at home lately. Probably because my dad had been in a really bad mood lately.

"When isn't he? Have we ever seen him in a good mood? I think he just gets less pissed off, not good." He's in a stream running along the sidewalk, one of our neighbors is out washing his car.

"I guess not." I agree. 

"You don't have to speak out loud you know."

"Yeah but..." It feels better sometimes.

"I guess... Afraid it'll respond instead of me?"

Sometimes... Do you see my nightmares? That thing haunts them.

"...I can't say I've seen _everything_ you dream about," The stream ends, and soon he's on a reflective piece of metal, "I hope you get a phone soon, it's kind of exhausting staying in your line of sight."

...Can you only show up when I can see myself?

"Usually, yeah. It's kind of like... A door opening and closing rapidly, or something I guess, no reflections, no me-" He pauses for a moment while he switches to a stop sign. "-Don't go getting any funny ideas, Richie."

I roll my eyes. I don't think I'd be able to stop myself from looking at my reflection even if I wanted to.

"Do we even have enough money to buy food? We should save it in case we end up homeless or something."

If that happened, we'd go to the Heere's.

"What if they aren't home?"

I paused for a moment. I guess we'd go to Michael, Christine, or Jenna.

"Don't think we should be seeing headphones given how he and Jeremy are right now."

Then we'll just go to Christine or Jenna.

"You've been staring at this stop sign for almost a minute you know."

Fine. I shrug and cross the street. There aren't too many reflective things on this part of the stretch, but eventually I'm out of my neighborhood and on the streets, which gives him more oppertunities. Shop Windows, Parked cars, things like that. My reflection seems to enjoy it a little, but he soon falls back into his pessimistic nature.

"Can we even do that? Go to Jenna or Christine I mean... Do they even care about us enough to do that?"

I mean... They'd understand, right?

"What if they don't? What if they don't like us? Or what if they can't take us in? Who are we supposed to go to? Jake? Oh, wait-"

"Why are you like this?"

He seemed caught off guard by the question."Like what?"

"You're like, hella negative dude. Why are you like this?" I can't think of one positive thing he's said this whole time, not counting our hair.

He pauses. "Why does it matter?"

"Why does it matter if Jenna or Christine don't like us? Though, I'm pretty sure they do."

"...You're talking out loud again, people are gonna stare."

I glance around, I am drawing some eyes. Okay, fine. You didn't answer my question about why you're so negative.

"What do I have to be positive about? And if they don't like us it's obviously because they never actually forgave us. We're just forcing ourselves into their lives and making them more miserable by being there. They just pity us they don't actually wanna help us with anything. All of them."

...I don't normally listen to him. But, he has that way of finding those things I'm really insecure or unsure about and spitting them at me in just the right way that I want to indulge... I know it doesn't really do any good but... Fuck.

"Think about it... Even if say, Jeremy, genuinely cares, it's kind of a burden on him. I bet he thinks every time we go home we get the shit beaten out of us, even when it's a good day! And the fact we participate in the play but don't actually have any intention to auditon? Christine probably hates us for that... Hell, when was the last time you and Jenna actually held a conversation for more than 2 minutes? And I bet we had something to do with Michael and Jeremy's little, disagreement."

I shake my head. No we don't, We didn't have anything to do with that.

"No, But Michael probably hates that his former bully knows how to help better than he does."

Oh, shut up!

_"Jeez_ Sorry."

I look up, realizing a total stranger had replied. Oh, I said that last part out loud.

"Great, now that total stranger thinks we're weird. Face it, Rich, you're a Jinx. You lose a shoebox, everyone panics over the shoebox. You lose a friend, Jeremy loses two friends. You bring your own bad luck to everyone around you."

I huff, walking over to a crummy fast food joint. I stop outside for a bit, pull out my wallet, and check my cash... Fuck.

"You left that spare money out on your bed, by the way."

I loll my head back, groaning. Great, I came all the way out here for nothing. Perfect. Peachy. I kick a rock out of the sidewalk... I check my wallet again, counting up some coins and a couple of One's. I think I had enough to get maybe a single item... How much was sales tax here again? 

"I dunno, you're the one failing math."

Can you even do math?

"Do you even like the food here?"

I roll my eyes, wandering into the alley between the resturant and another store. I slouch against the wall for a moment, finally finding some piece of mind for the time being. I take a few breaths, just letting my thoughts settle for a moment. It's like I'm finally free of that jerk...

Then I notice the puddle next to me, and frown. My reflection rolls his eyes.

"I'm still here when you're not looking at me you know, I can still see and hear everything I just can't respond."

I go to keep walking, but trip on something and fall into the puddle... Great. The front of my shirt is all wet, I think some of my bandages are too, but somehow my jacket made it out mostly dry. I look down at myself, and by this point all I can think to do is curl up and wait for my damn shirt to finish drying while my stomach bites at me. I just wanted to get some fucking food and maybe find a spot outside where I could zone out for a few hours but, nope, I can't even have that.

I stare at him for a moment. He just stares back, but eventually huffs. "Dude, get off the ground... You're getting your ass all wet."

I think about doing it, but I have trouble actually getting to my feet. My reflection takes a look around, he seems annoyed but... Also not. 

"If you're that worked up about it you could try playing that guitar to make up the difference," He suggests, " Of course, you're probably gonna suck at it."

I sigh, rubbing my arms a little. I hated admitting it, but sometimes he had good ideas. I unhook the case and pull out the guitar, setting up just on the edge of the alley. I'd thankfully discovered that the case came with an instructional booklet and a few pieces of sheet music while tinkering with it, so It wasn't like I had no material at all.

I got the guitar in tune, and just kind of went through some motions, mostly idle in my strumming. It's nothing impressive, but I leave my case nearby in case anyone feels charitable enough to give me a dollar or two... I felt bad about it, just asking for money. I had the money at home, I could go back and lug everything with me. But... I guess I like the security of not having to. It was easier. Easier on my limbs and easier on my head. I didn't have to go back and sneak past my dad or...

I keep strumming. I stop thinking for a moment and just let myself strum. It's kind of soothing. I remember once I heard a musician on Public Access talk about how whenever they got in a good rhythm, they kind of got into this trance. Maybe that's what this was? I just kept playing a little... There's a few bills tossed in, eventually, which makes me feel like it's a little worth it to keep going.

"I'm surprised this many adults are paying any mind to us."

Mr. Reyes keeps an eye on us. 

"I guess. I feel like he has to though. He gets paid for it. Which is sad, considering he's one of the only adults who ever does that."

What about Mr. Heere?

"He's just trying to be responsible, unlike _some_ people."

I huff. Well, it's not like Dad's gonna turn around any time soon, so we might as well let Mr. Heere pay us some mind.

"Why?"

Huh?

He almost hesitates for a moment, then explains: "Why does _Jeremy_ get to be the one with the dad who gives a shit? Why does he get to have his father turn around and better himself. Why don't _we_ get that? We deserve it just as much after all the shit we've been through."

Do you _want_ to forgive Dad for what he put us through?

"No, but he could at least give more of a shit after we nearly fucking died. He could at least give us a pat on the head or a 'good job, sport' every once in a while when we get a good report card. He could at least take some damn incentive to care for his fucking kids!"

I keep strumming, a little less calmly and a little more quickly, just to get the energy out. Maybe he could, but even if he tried to change now I don't know if I could just forgive him for the things he's done. Besides, he's made it clear he isn't going to. I'm not saying we _don't_ deserve it but, I think we deserve _better_ too.

"I guess... Is Mr. Heere better?"

Well, like you said, he's actually improved himself from what Jeremy told us... And He's keeping an eye on us. That's gotta count for something. Plus, I think he genuinely cares about me.

"What about _me?"_

I pause for a moment. But before I can think of answering someone drops $10 into the donations... The total amount of money I got is nothing to brag about, a measly 16 bucks, but it's enough to at least buy myself a nice hot meal. That's all I wanted out of this trip. I scrounge up the extra bills and put my guitar away for the time being. I catch my reflection in the restaurant window again. But, he's gone quiet.

After a nice meal of fast food tacos and a chance to do some homework and warm up my body again, I head home... To my surprise, my reflection stays quiet for the trip home. I guess he talked himself out for the day. I can't say I blame him. He was going on for almost an hour. I think that's the longest I ever heard him talk. I go back into the house through my bedroom window. The sound of the TV blares a little through the walls, and It's a bit comforting. It means he won't be throwing a pissy fit anytime soon. I settle down into my bed, letting my body relax. I'd grown sore, carrying my guitar and bag with me... I think it was too much strain on my shoulder. Usually, weekends meant I didn't have to worry about chaffing but today...

I curl over on my bed, pulling Todd out of the crevice he lived in and scrolling through Twitter on my laptop. It was small, but it was something I had the energy to do. I eventually get a message from Jeremy.

_j.heere00: Hey dude, you still wanna come over? My dad's working late tonight and I don't really wanna have the house to myself._

I get the feeling this is something Michael would usually be called over for. I had a feeling this was more urgent than some of my other overnights. I'm not opposed to filling in that spot... But, I did just get home. I was getting really tired.

"Just take a nap over there."

I look over at the bedroom mirror, surprised by what he's saying. Did my reflection really just, suggest I hang out with Jeremy? Earlier he was going on about how jealous he was of the guy and yet-

He rolls his eyes. "I don't like the guy but, you clearly care about him so, whatever. Go, You're the one in control anyway, not me."

_richgoranski: Yeah, sure. I'll head over. I might pass out on your couch for a bit when I get there though._

_j.heere00: That's fine, I just like knowing there's someone else around, y'know?_

I look in the mirror, but my reflection is inanimate for the time being... He's retreated, probably not about to admit his actions. But, by doing this he told me something very important: He _definitely_ wasn't the SQUIP. Because the SQUIP wouldn't have done **that.** Any doubt I had about it was gone in an instant. 

I stare a little longer. "Thanks for agreeing with me on something."

There isn't a response, but at least I know he heard me... 

He's back to his usual self the next morning when I go to brush my teeth, but I felt like I at least made some kind of progress with him. I'm not sure why he's here, but if he's going to be maybe we can learn to live with each other eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks for reading! Please leave comments if you enjoyed this chapter... I'd like to hear your guys' speculations or answer any questions you may have.
> 
> Also a bit of news regarding the fic:  
> So, Act 2 is going to take bit longer to finish than I originally anticipated, as it's twice as long as Act 1... Meaning that there might be another Hiatus after I finish uploading this current batch of Chapters. Don't worry! You guys have two (possibly 3, we'll see) more coming in after this one! So you got a bit until then.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy this work, please leave a comment! It's always greatly appreciated and helps me know how people are enjoying things!


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